Your 21
by Chicago Is So 2 Years Ago
Summary: After Tom Quincy disappeared, Jude Harrison became a shadow of her former self. Will she be able to survive without him, or will she lose herself completely? More importantly, will they ever be together again?
1. Silent When I Would Used to Speak

_**Your 21**_

_I own nothing that is Instant Star. Sadly, I do own many of the experiences that this story contains. I will only say this once: please respect ratings. This fic has been rated M for extremely mature and dark themes, as well as future self-injury (I truly apologize for any and all triggers). I do not glorify any of this behavior, and if you or someone you know engages in self-destructive behavior of any form (there are many, many types), I urge you to get help. I do not write of these things because it's "in" to be dark and disturbed, but because I've found it to be extremely cathartic for me. And if I can help even one person realize that there is hope beyond the despair they find themselves surrounded by, then I have done more than I could ever hope for. Please realize that at no point in this will I include A/N in the text of the chapter, nor will I threaten to stop writing if I don't receive reviews. I truly write for myself. I do hope that you find some enjoyment in it. And if you feel urged to leave me a review, be it constructive, positive, or critical, then I appreciate your input. If you do not feel a need to review, than that is your decision and I feel no need to beg you to do so. Oh, and for all the dark, there will be light – eventually._

* * *

"Midway along the journey of life,

I woke to find myself in a dak wood,

For I had wandered off from the straight path."

-Dante Alighieri's _Inferno_

One: _ Silent When I Would Used to Speak  
_

Tommy always shied away from Jude, telling her that she was simply to young for him. Or that he didn't want to jeopardize their producer/artist relationship. Or by dating her sister, trying to make her hate him. But nothing he did worked.

Until he left. For good.

Stood her up for their first 'real' date.

And didn't come back.

Oh how he would be the undoing of her.

She got drunk in Berry. Actually, she got drugged in Berry. GHB'd to be exact. She also lost her virginity in Berry. It was easier to pretend that it was just 'lost', not stolen. Brutally, painfully stolen from her.

She lost so much that night. So much more than Tommy or her virginity.

She lost herself. To an obsessed 'Fan'. She didn't sleep for days. Every time she closed her eyes, there he was. With every picture the paparazzi snapped, she was reminded of the sick pictures the Fan took and sent her. There could never be silence, or she'd hear the Fan voice whispering. Worst of all, she couldn't speak. She'd open her mouth, but no words would come out, except when she was alone – and even then it was just hoarse and ragged cries.

Well, there was one word that would always come to her lips. _Tommy_. She'd screamed for him that night, hoping that he would come to her rescue. But Tommy didn't come, and it had just made the Fan angrier. It had angered the Fan so much that he'd left her with a lovely parting gift. A thin, red and raised scar that ran diagonally from beneath her right breast to just above her left hip bone.

When the Fan left her, broken (but without tears, she would not give him the satisfaction of seeing her cry), bruised, and bleeding, he took the young and naive Jude Harrison who had won Instant Star and left a bitter and jaded young woman in her place.

Once the Fan was gone, Jude had crawled to the shower and collapsed on the floor while the hot water beat down on her, washing away all of the evidence. She'd laid there long after the hot water had run out, until she heard Mason and Jamie beating on the bathroom door. With that she had turned the water off, dressed herself, and left the hotel without saying a word to either of them.

For twelve long days, Jude was like the walking dead. She said nothing, ate next to nothing, and didn't sing a note or write a single lyric. All calls to her cell phone were ignored, text messages left unread and voice mails unheard. Once an hour, like a robot, she held down the number one on her keypad allowing her phone to dial Tommy. And once an hour, she would hear an operator announce that the cellular subscriber was no longer available.

All those around her assumed that her state was caused by Tommy. That her despair was because Tommy had willingly walked away from her. Kwest and the SME boys left her alone. Darius had stopped by on the second day to tell her that her album _The Learning Curve_ had hit number one on the charts. When his news elicited no reaction from her, he had told her to take three months (less, of course, if she wanted to return sooner) and relax before starting work on her third album. After he left her room, where she laid buried under several heavy blankets despite the summer heat, Darius had gone and spoken to her father, telling him that she wasn't needed in the studio until she wanted to come back. Portia came by every day, bringing her a change of clothing and a stack of cds. Sadie came to her room every few hours, sticking her head in to see if Jude was sleeping. She never was.

On the thirteenth day, her salvation came from an unlikely source.

Patsy arrived and produced a bottle of Jack Daniels and two glasses. She said nothing as she poured the amber liquid into each glass, handing one to Jude and sitting down next to her in bed. Patsy tilted her head back and let the drink slip down her throat, and Jude followed her example, grimacing as it burned a trail straight to her stomach. They sat and said nothing. After several tracks from an obscure garage band known as _The Fallen Stars_ (from one of Portia's stacks) had played, Patsy finally spoke:

"I was ten. The first time, I mean." Jude said nothing, but turned her head to look at Patsy – acknowledging her presence (anyones presence) for the first time since the Fan had left her. After a few minutes, Patsy spoke again,

"It really sucks to have something so precious taken away from you at such a young age. Hell, at any age. His name was Jack. He was my mother's boyfriend – and I use the term very loosely. Jack came to my bed one night. And he did to me what I know someone has done to you." At this confession by Patsy, Jude closed her eyes and dropped her chin to her chest. A subtle movement, but Patsy saw it for what it was – an admittance. She refilled their glasses, and they drank the liquor down again. It burned less the second time.

"After that first time, I didn't get out of bed for days. I just kept praying that I would die. Or at the very least, that I would never feel so completely violated again. Unfortunately, someone up there hates me. A week later, he did it again. And again. And again. And again. I started sleeping on the streets when I was 13. I still came home from time to time. Always hoping that mom would have kicked him to the curb. But he was there, waiting for me, each time. When I was 16, I took all my stuff. I've been living in my car ever since."

Jude still said nothing. Finally, she opened her mouth, she wanted to ask Patsy if it got easier. If she'd always feel like this. So raw and exposed. But no words would come.

"The answer is yes. It will. It's gonna hurt like hell, but give it time kid. I got through it, you will too."

Jude closed her eyes again, silently thanking Patsy for everything.

"You're welcome."

"You are aware of the irony here, right?" Jude finally spoke, her voice soft and unsure.

"What, this?" Patsy motioned to the Jack Daniels bottle, and Jude nodded. "Yeah, I suppose it is pretty ironic. Biggest bastard in my life had the same name as the man who gives me peace about it all." With that, Patsy slapped Jude on the knee and left – taking the bottle with her. "Oh, and Jude, I'll be back, this time tomorrow. I don't care if you shower, or change your clothes – we all know I'm not a huge fan of either – but you will be leaving this room." Jude nodded.

Patsy's revelation hadn't shocked her. Surprisingly, it had comforted her. And to be honest, it explained a hell of a lot about Patsy.

A few minutes later, Jude felt her eyelids grow heavy. Finally, she could sleep. She didn't know if it was the relief of finally having someone know what had happened, or if it was the alcohol, but she didn't care. Sleep washed over her, and she was grateful for it.


	2. Through the Looking Glass

_Two: Through the Looking Glass_

True to her word, Patsy returned the next day. To Patsy's surprise, Jude had showered and put on clean clothes. No make up, nothing revealing, just a plain white t-shirt and jeans that were at least a size too big. She wore sunglasses that hid her features – and the dark circles that grew under her eyes. Apparently she'd also found hair dye, as her hair was now such a deep brown that it appeared to be black. No one would recognize this shell of a woman as Instant Star's Own Jude Harrison.

"I brought you a present." Patsy held out a small, silver flask. Jude accepted it and drank deeply from it, not bothering to ask what it was. The old Jude would have replied with a crack like, 'But I didn't get you anything!', but this Jude. This Jude said nothing.

Without further explanation of where they were going, Patsy simply turned and left, expecting that Jude would follow her.

"Oh, and Jude? I never liked you as a blond anyway." Patsy commented over her shoulder.

Jude slouched down in the passenger's seat of Patsy's Cadillac. The buildings and cars around her were just one continual blur. She didn't know how long Patsy drove for, but when they came to a stop in front of a decrepit warehouse, Jude knew it wasn't anywhere she'd ever been. As she followed Patsy inside, her phone vibrated, alerting her to a new text message from Sadie. Instead of reading the message, Jude turned the phone off.

Upon entering the warehouse, Jude suddenly became aware of a thunderous base beat that was driving a fast techno song. One corner held what appeared to be a makeshift bar, where most of the people seemed to be congregating. Patsy wandered off towards the crowd, and returned with two large glasses filled with unidentifiable liquid. Jude drank it without question. She knew that alcohol was the last place she should be turning too, especially considering what happened the last time. But in a way, that just made the irony that much more poetic.

"Hey Pats, where are we?" She yelled over the music.

"The underbelly of society. The place everyone is afraid of. The people everyone thinks are dangerous. The only place where reality exists." Patsy replied.

"Ok... but why?"

"Because here, you're not Instant Star's Jude Harrison, or Jude Harrison famous musician, you're just another face in the crowd, looking for the same thing as everyone else."

"And what am I looking for?"

"A way to forget." With that, Patsy pulled out a small baggie filled with white powder. "Come on blondie, want a taste?"

"So not a blond anymore, remember?" Jude felt like giggling, the alcohol was warming her body, helping her relax. What could it hurt? After all, everyone in the music industry supposedly did it. And Patsy wouldn't offer her something unsafe. It would just be this once...

"So, what'll it be?" Patsy asked, waving the bag in front of her.

"Down the rabbit hole we go." Jude whispered as she took the bag from Patsy.

"Didn't you get my text message?" Sadie screeched at Jude when she unsuccessfully tried to sneak into the Harrison household at an ungodly hour of the morning.

"Huh? What text message?" Jude slurred, bracing a hand against the wall of the hall as she stumbled.

"Christ Jude, are you... are you drunk?"

"Technically? Uh... I don't know. I guess? What's wrong?"

"Just... go get some sleep. We'll deal with it in the morning." Sadie was seething with anger. Jude was drunk, judging by her appearance she was also under the effects of drugs, and good old Sadie had to clean up the mess. Knowing it would be easier to deal with Jude when she was sober, Sadie put the manila envelope she'd been holding on the kitchen table.


	3. The Curse of an Aching Heart

_Three: The Curse of an Aching Heart_

* * *

_You made me what I am to-day,_

_I hope you're satisfied . . ._

_And though you're not true,_

_May God bless you,_

_That's the curse of an aching heart._

_- Henry Fink_

* * *

Jude stirred in her sleep, as a concerned Sadie watched on, trying to decide if she should wake her. Just as Sadie reached out to shake her, Jude's restless movements ceased and a small smile crept across her face. 

_"You let Jude pilot your ride, and I can barely scam shotgun. What are you now, her party planner?" Kwest said to Tommy. She could barely see them from where she hid around the corner. She had been on her way to ask Tommy for his opinion on her dress when she'd seen Tommy coming. She'd ducked behind the wall so that she could compose herself. She wanted to be sophisticated, cool, mature. But God he looked so hot in that leather jacket. And those aviator sunglasses – sexy – even if they did hide his gorgeous blue eyes. Ugh! Get a hold of yourself, she thought._

_"You got something to say, just say it." Tommy sounded pissed. She smiled and softly started to hum _I Wear My Sunglasses At Night_. It was like Tommy's personal theme song._

_"Well you wouldn't be the first producer to cross that line." Kwest shot back at Tommy. No way. No WAY! Kwest thought there was something going on between her and Tommy? _

_"I'm not even going to answer that." Tommy replied. She was willing to bet anything that he was smirking right now. Kwest laughed. Yup, he was smirking.\_

_"Listen man, I know you, alright? You're falling for this girl. Now I wouldn't blame you if you wanted to hit that in another few years." Kwest said, as they began to walk towards the where she was hiding. _

_"Look, that's not even what this is about!" Tommy protested. Jude's smile fell away from her face. So he didn't care about her. What had she been thinking, anyway? Like Lil Tommy Q would have a thing for plain old Jude Harrison._

_"Kwest, man, you think I'm okay with this?" Tommy continued, "Huh? That the coolest chick I know, the girl who gets me the most, is sixteen? Give me a break man. She's out of bounds, and I'm not that guy." Jude was stunned. The girl who gets him the most? Her? _

_"Good." Kwest replied, "But if she was twenty-one?"_

_"In a split second."_

_In a split second._

Jude sat up in bed. It was just a dream. All just a dream.

She wasn't sure if she preferred dreaming of the day where she had her heart broken twice in one night or of the night where she'd lost everything. In a way, it was easier to dream of the Fan. He wasn't Tommy. Tommy, the man who'd held her heart since she met him at fifteen. The man who'd stolen kisses from her with such passion and reckless abandon, forgetting the consequences and getting caught up in the moment. The man who'd asked her out, and left her screaming his name in the street. The man who's absence drove her to run to Berry. To the Fan.

She hated him.

"Oh good, you're awake." Sadie's voice rang through her room.

"Ugh, what do you want?" She groaned, becoming aware of the pounding headache.

"Hangover much, Jude?" Sadie taunted her, but then held out a glass of water and some aspirin. "Here, take these. It'll take the edge off."

"Thanks, Sades." She took the glass and pills.

"God Jude, what were you thinking!"

"Save it Sadie. I'm not in the mood for lectures.

"Fine, whatever Jude, I'm not your mom. By the way. This came for you. Considering a second career in porn?" Sadie thrust a plain manila envelope at her as she stormed out of Jude's bedroom. A few seconds later, Jude heard the slam of the front door.

Jude didn't have to open it to know what it contained, but she did anyway. Her jaw dropped in shock as she read the note that accompanied the photos. _I have plenty more where these came from. Did you enjoy it as much as I did? $50,000 or I'll ruin you._

She snorted at the threat. Or he'd ruin her? How much more could he do, that he hadn't already done?

She needed to write. Finally, some inspiration!

* * *

Jude screamed. Where was it. She'd torn her room apart, searched the studio, and dug through the Mustang. It was gone. That journal held every song she'd written since she one Instant Star. All her lyrics, all her memories, all her heartache, all her pain. And she'd lost it. How much more irresponsible could she be? One of the only things in her life that couldn't be replaced, and she'd lost it.

Yet another in a long string of Jude Harrison's greatest fuck ups.

Get drunk. Check.

Get raped. Check.

Get assaulted. Check.

Have compromising photos taken. Big Check.

Get drunk again. Check.

Try Coke with Patsy. Check.

Enjoy trying coke with Patsy. Check.

Receive blackmail notice from the Fan. Fucking Check.

Lose her journal. Check.

Her chest tightened, her heart was beating faster and faster, oh God, she was going to throw up. She had to do something to make this feeling go away. Anything.

Impulsively, she reached for an exacto knife that was left over from some project. She had no idea why she picked it up off the floor, or what her intentions were.

It was as though someone else was in control of her body, and she was simply watching from the outside. The metal of the blade felt cool against her wrist. She hestiated as she pressed down on it.

No. Not there.

Then where.

Automatically, she moved it up to the inside of her bicep.

Here.

* * *

Jude was slouched against the door to the bathroom. There was blood on the floor. She held a wash cloth to her arm. Where had all the blood come from? It hadn't hurt. No. It had helped. She felt calmer.

* * *

"Patsy? It's me." Jude's hand was shaking, the feeling of panic was creeping back, she needed to try another way to get it to go away. Something a little less emo, and a little more rock star.

"Well if it isn't Saint Jude. Good to see you survived the night."

"Yeah. Whatever, anyway, I was wondering..."

"Say no more. I'll be there in ten."

* * *

_I just wanted to thank everyone for the positive response to this. I was worried that it might be too much since IS tends to be a rather light show. But everyone knows that artists tend to have a 'tortured' side. I'll continue to update as often as I can. Oh, and standard disclaimer applies._


	4. You Forget Where You Are

_Four: You Forget Where You Are_

_You tried hard to be someone _

_That you forgot who you are _

_You tried to fill some emptiness _

_'Till all you had spilled over _

_Now every thing's so far away _

_That you don't know where you are _

_When all that you wanted _

_And all that you had _

_Doesn't seem so much _

_For you to hold on to _

_For you to belong to _

_When it's hard to be yourself _

_It's not to be someone else _

_Still every thing's so far away _

_That you forget where you are_

Jet, _Hold On_

* * *

___**While Jude was in Berry...**_

_As the blinds on the observation window were drawn open and a starched white sheet lifted to reveal a dead body, Tommy couldn't help but let a few tears fall down his face._

_He shook his head. It couldn't be. It just couldn't be. But it was._

_"Yes, that's him." He said quietly, voice cracking._

_"I'm sorry sir, we need you to identify him by name." The police officer next to him said._

_"That's James Christopher D'Aubigne... My twin brother."_

_"Thank you Mr. Quincy. Do you think you could view a second body please?"  
Tommy just nodded his head and stared at his feet. Jimmy was a part of him. Sure, they'd grown apart ever since Tommy left home for Boyz Attack, but still. How could this have happened. It seemed like just yesterday that he was the best man at Jimmy's wedding to Christine._

_The officer cleared his throat, and Tommy looked up. Through the window he saw the body of a young black woman. It was Christine. The officer was looking at him expectantly._

_"That's Christine D'Aubigne. She's married to my brother. Was married to my brother." Oh, God, he would give anything to be anywhere but here. Doing anything but identifying the dead bodies of Jimmy and Christine._

_"We appreciate your coming down here, Mr. Quincy. Your niece is in surgery right now, I believe. Would you like me to find someone to escort you up there?" The officer laid a hand on Tommy's shoulder. Tommy nodded sullenly._

_"Yes, please."_

* * *

_"UNCLE TOMMMMMY!" The only child in the hospital daycare at 4:15 a.m. screamed as soon as Tommy entered the cheery room that was decorated with Sesame Street characters. _

_"Hey Whittier! How's my little girl?" Tommy said with fake happiness. Whittier ran to his outstretched arms and he hoisted her up onto his hip._

_"I hurt my arm, and Cadence wouldn't wake up. What happened to mommy and daddy. Can I see them? I want Cady!" Tommy didn't know what to say to the four-year-old. How was he supposed to tell her that her parents were dead and that the doctors didn't think her twin would make it through the night. Who was he to break her heart?_

_"How does your arm feel now?" Avoidance. Avoidance was the best route._

_"It feels funny. The doctors put a cast on it. It's purple! I like purple. But it makes my arm feel heavy." Whittier trailed off sleepily, making Tommy sigh in relief. He would be safe from her innocent questions for now._

* * *

_Tommy sighed and laid down on the bed. He turned on the TV and heard the local news come on. He needed something to cheer him up. Something to give him hope. Anything that would remind him that all was not lost. _

_Jude's journal._

_How could he have forgotten about it. He'd found it on the floor of the passenger seat of his Porsche. Thankfully it wasn't his precious Viper that was currently in public parking at the Toronto airport. Jude must have left it there on accident. On a whim he'd grabbed it before going to board a plane to Helena, Montana. Before this nightmare had begun, and he'd found himself identifying the bodies of his brother and sister-in-law. Before he'd discovered that Jimmy had left him as Cadence and Whittier's legal guardian._

_What had he done with that journal?_

_Just as he was about to go search for the journal, he heard a high pitched scream._

_Fuck._

_Whittier._

_Tommy ran to comfort the girl, forgetting about his own troubles._

* * *

_An hour later Tommy laid across a black leather couch, with an old crocheted afghan covering his shirtless body. Whittier had finally calmed down and went back to sleep after almost an hour. Even after he knew she was asleep, he stayed seated in the beat up arm chair in the corner of her room. She looked so small and fragile, tucked under a blanket along with her teddy bear. Her long black curls were splayed across the pillow and her thumb had migrated to her mouth. A thumb sucker. She'd gotten that habit from Jimmy. Tommy had teased him mercilessly when they were younger for doing the very same thing Whittier was doing. Oh, how things had changed. _

_Tommy knew it was pointless to try and sleep. He had to be back at the hospital in in a few hours. Even with everything that had happened in the past 48 hours, he couldn't keep his mind off Jude. He hated himself for leaving like he did. But was he supposed to do? His brother's best friend, Kent, had showed up out of nowhere and strong armed him into leaving. Kent would tell him nothing except that there had been an accident and that Tommy had to go with him to Montana._

_And so he'd come. He couldn't forget the pained look on Jude's face when he'd told her he was leaving. She'd screamed his name, and he'd just left her standing in the street. God, he was such a bastard. After two long years of pretending there was nothing between them, he'd finally given Jude hope by asking her out. Hell, he'd finally given himself hope. Denying that there was anything between them, beyond a producer/artist relationship, had become pointless._

_He closed his eyes and held Jude's leather bound journal close to his chest, as though it were actually her. He'd found it carefully tucked away in his carry on bag and had been debating with himself about opening it. It's not like he'd never read it before. But it seemed different this time._

_Taking a long drink from the glass of whiskey he'd set on the table, he opened the journal to one of the first pages. The margins were covered in doodled stars and music notes with **It Begins** sketched across the top of the page in black ink._

___Everything is so surreal. I'm just a normal 15 year old girl, I'm a C student, nothing extraordinary. And yet, through some twist of fate, I won Instant Star. Only, I'm already beginning to wonder if it's a mistake._

___Since I was a little girl, I've dreamed of being a famous singer. I've doodled so many potential album covers, practiced my acceptance speech for my first Grammy, and prayed that I would get to record an album._

___But now? Can I take it back now? Really, thanks G Major, but I really don't want to make a record anymore. I mean how will anyone take it seriously, when Little Tommy Q is my producer. He was the front man for a boy band for God's sake – what could he know about music. _

___Not to mention that he hates everything about me. Especially my music._

___He's already landed me in the tabloids! How am I going to become the next Kurt Cobain if I'm always in the tabloids?_

_Tommy grimaced as he remembered those first days with Jude. They might not have gotten off to the best start, but he hadn't realized she'd disliked him so much._

_He flipped to another page, hoping to find some lyrics. Instead he came across a blank page. What was a blank page doing in the middle of her journal - every other page was filled to the brim with writing. Then he saw two words printed neatly at the bottom of the page:_

___IT HAPPENED_

_Fuck. Alright, so maybe Jude's journal wasn't such a great idea._

* * *

_Tommy leaned against the railing of the spacious deck and lit a cigarette. He inhaled deeply, reveling in his secret vice. Almost no one knew _

_He had so much to do tomorrow. Go to the hospital. Hire a nanny. Meet with the lawyer. Plan a funeral. Scratch that, a double funeral. Call Jude. No, definitely scratch that. While he'd give anything to hear her voice right now, what was he going to say? Oh, hey, remember that twin brother I never told you about? He and my sister-in-law are dead and I'm now the guardian to four-year-old twins - did I mention that I'm in middle of nowhere, Montana? Yeah. That would go over well._

_No, he couldn't ask Jude to get involved in this. She had her career to think of, a normal life to lead._

_He stubbed out the butt of his cigarette and went back inside._

_This is what's best for the both of us._


	5. I Like a Look of Agony

_Five: A Look of Agony_

_I like a look of agony,_

_Because I know it's true_

-Emily Dickinson, _iv_

* * *

**Three Months Later**

Jude awoke in an awkward position, complete with a crick in her neck, in a place that wasn't her bed. Shit, she thought to herself, what did I do last night. Sitting up and stretching, she looked around her surroundings and felt a flood of relief when she realized she was in the backseat of Patsy's car. And Patsy's car was... shit. This time she said it out loud. Over and over again. Only Patsy would have left her passed out in the backseat in the alley behind G Major. Judging from the dimness of the light, she had likely been there most of the day.

Now what, Jude wondered. She could head inside to G Major... or not. She could wait for Patsy to come back out – but who knows show long that would be. She could call someone for a ride, but who would she call?

Tommy.

Ugh, just like always, his name was the first that came to her. She wondered if that would ever change. If she would ever stop yelling for Tommy whenever she needed help. Deep down, she knew that no matter how deep she buried the ghost of him, he would always be there, haunting her, influencing her every move.

He'll come back to me, a small voice whispered in her head before she could banish it.

She felt so empty. Tommy was gone. Her innocence and naivety was gone. Her reputation would be gone if those pictures got out. Her music was gone. What did that leave her with. Alcohol. Drugs. Anything that could numb the pain, even if only for a moment.

Speaking of pain, she had one hell of a headache. And she still didn't know what happened last night. Suddenly, the door to G Major slammed open, and Patsy came storming out.

"You okay Patsy?" Jude asked, climbing into the front seat as Patsy gunned the engine. "I'll take that as a no. Problems with Jamie?"

"Jamie, you mean the corporate sellout? That bastard? Well, let's just say we're having a minor disagreement over his artistic license." Patsy hissed angrily, making a hard right turn.

* * *

After driving aimlessly for an hour, they'd arrived at a public park. The pair was now reclined on the hood of Patsy's car with their backs against the windshield, staring up at the sky. It was an eerily clear night, and for once Jude could see the stars. There was a light breeze blowing, rustling the leaves on the trees. 

"Does it ever stop feeling like this?" Jude asked suddenly.

"Feeling like what?" Patsy asked, between swigs from a bottle in a brown paper bag.

"Like it will never be okay again."Jude took the bottle that was offered, and drank from it, ignoring the burning in her throat – and heart.

"That all depends." Patsy reached out for Jude to return the bottle.

"On what." Jude took another long drink before handing the bottle back to Patsy.

"Whether we're talking about being violated and blackmailed, or about having your heart broken."

"Both."

"I've never been one to sugar coat things, and you know it Jude. So I'm going to tell you this straight up. It seems hopeless as hell right now. Like you've lost everything. Like nothing is ever going to be right with the world again. It'll hurt so much, you'll wish you were dead. Some nights, all you'll want to do is lose yourself in a bottle. But once you hit bottom, everything will be okay."  
"I can't even fathom your logic there." Jude wondered if she'd hit bottom yet. No, she'd know if she had.

"Well, once you can't get any lower, then there's only one way to go. And if you get lucky, there will be someone there to help you find your way back up."

"And Jamie's that person for you."

Patsy didn't reply, but that was all the answer Jude needed.

"Don't let him win." Patsy said quietly after several minutes had passed.

* * *

The next morning, Jude found herself waking up far to early. Albeit, without a hang over and actually in her own bed for once. Perhaps it was time to cut back on the partying a bit, the tabloids She smelled coffee somewhere. Tommy always brought her coffee on their early mornings, even when they were fighting. But she already knew it wasn't Tommy that had brought her coffee. And damnit, why was she thinking about him again. Climbing out of bed, she pulled on the nearest pair of jeans, a t-shirt that smelled somewhat clean, and an SME hoodie Spied had given to her. No make up, no shower, she just pulled her back in a messy ponytail. As her body began to wake up, she found the sunlight streaming into the room to be unbearably bright. So much for no hangover, she muttered as she put on her sunglasses. 

If someone had brought her coffee, that meant that she was wanted at G Major. Oh God, He released the pictures! In a panic, she checked her phone for angry messages from Darius. Finding none, she relaxed again. She'd paid Him the money days after the threat. If things were different, then maybe she would have fought back. A few weeks after she'd paid, He sent her another note making it clear that He wasn't out of her life for good.

Best just to go downstairs and find out who wanted what.

"Good Morning, Sunshine!" Jamie sang out cheerfully when she finally appeared in the kitchen. "Coffee. Now. You. Quiet." She grunted.

"So you must be the delinquent that got my well-behaved, innocent girlfriend drunk last night. And most nights in the past few months." Jude snorted at his comment.

"Definitely the other way around, buddy."

"That is neither here nor there. Anyway. G Major time. Go get changed."

"So much for take three months." Wasn't that how long Darius had told her to stay away?

"Yeah, about that. It's been three months, Jude. Going on four." Jamie shook his head, how could it be that Jude didn't even care about recording.

"Oh. I guess it has." In an effort to avoid further discussion of her absence, Jude grabbed the coffee Jamie had brought and headed for the front door. "Let's go."

"You're going looking like that? Portia is going to have a field day. Or a heart attack. Or both." Jamie may have been making light of the situation, but Jude's appearance gave voice to what Patsy had been telling him lately. Jude was in trouble. Deep trouble. Patsy had remarked that even she couldn't keep up with Jude's partying some nights – and that said a lot. Patsy also implied that drinking wasn't all Jude did, if he recalled a conversation from almost a month ago that Patsy probably didn't remember having. For the first, and likely last, time in his life, Jamie wished Tommy was here. Someone needed to pull Jude out of the pit of despair she was quickly falling into, before something bad happened.

* * *

"Alright, Jude. What have you been working on?" Kwest asked over the mic once Jude had taken a seat on a stool. 

"Nothing really." She didn't want to admit to anyone that she hadn't written a song since Tommy left. Or that she'd lost her journal with all her old material in it. Or that the journal Tommy gave her had yet to be written in.

"You've been out of the studio for over three months and you don't have anything?" Kwest snapped at her.

"I'm not a songwriter anymore, alright? I'll sing whatever the hell you want, but I'll never write again."

"That's weak, Jude. So, Tommy runs away and you can't even function anymore?

Jude looked up to glare at Kwest, but all she could see was Tommy. Tommy leaning back with his feet up on the table. Tommy busily pushing switches and dials while she sang. Tommy rolling his eyes at her. Tommy watching her every move. Tommy staring at her. Tommy smiling that smile that made her melt. Tommy. Tommy. Tommy. It always came back to him. Especially here.

_"First bootleg copy of Jude Harrison's new cd. Wanna hold?" Tommy teased her, knowing how anxious she was for the finished product. It was almost six in the morning, they'd spent the night re-recording White Lines and Jude had just entered the sound booth for Studio A after the last cut. _

_"Wow." Jude's eyes lit up as she held the silver disc in her hands. It was finally done. Nothing made her happier than the moment when she first got to first hold a finished album. Well, almost nothing. _

_As though he read her mind, Tommy pulled Jude close and put his arms around her waist. She could feel the heat of his breath on her neck. Closing her eyes, she wrapped her arms around his neck, deepening the embrace. She inhaled the familiar scent of leather and his cologne tinged with smoke from the cigarettes he thought no one knew he smoked. He nuzzled closer too her, burying his face in her hair. This was heaven. A soft moan escaped her mouth when Tommy's hand slipped under her shirt, caressing the soft skin of her back with his callused hands. Hearing her pleasure, Tommy blew softly on her neck to get the hair out of the way before kissing it gently. There was another quiet moan, this time from Tommy as he intensified his affection to her neck._

_Jude was ready to melt. They'd kissed before, but he'd never done anything like this. This embrace was different, full of tenderness and desire. Oh God Tommy, she thought, your reputation certainly is well earned._

_When his attention to her neck suddenly ceased she whimpered loudly only to have her protestations silenced by his lips on hers. His hands left her back and cupped her face gently, pulling her even closer to him as his tongue dipped into her eager mouth. With his whole body pressed tightly into hers she could feel his arousal against her hip._

_They'd been so lost in each other that they hadn't heard Kwest come in until he cleared his throat loudly. Jude tried to pull away from Tommy before he had the chance to shove her aside but his strong arms kept her in place. She looked up at him questioningly. 'Stay' he mouthed to her before leaning his forehead against hers. _

_"Did you need something Kwest?" Tommy asked in a tone that indicated the correct answer to this question would be 'no' followed by a quick departure, his eyes never leaving Jude's._

_"Uh, no, I was gonna work on Patsy's... I didn't realize you guys were... I mean, still here... I'll just go use Studio B."_

_"Good plan." Tommy made a move to kiss her again when he was interrupted by Kwest._

_"Uh, T, Liam's in the parking lot, just a heads up."_

_Tommy let out a growl of frustration, which Jude echoed in her head._

_"Good bye Kwest." Tommy kissed her one last time, full of passion and promise._

_"We'll continue this later." He whispered in her ear before nipping at her earlobe. _

"Hello? Jude? Earth to Jude!" Kwest's voice boomed through her headphones, jolting her back to a Tommy-less reality. A reality that was all wrong. There was no way she could sit there, in that studio, day in and day out, without reliving all of those memories of Tommy – both good and bad. It hurt too damn much. She needed to get out. She needed to escape. She needed pain – the familiar pain of razor blade. Or the welcome sharp pinch of a needle as it transported her to a different world, one where Tommy and the Fan never existed.

"I can't do this." She pulled off the headphones and let them drop to the ground.

"Can't do what, is everything ok?"

"No. Tell Darius I'm sorry." Abandoning her guitar, Jude ran out of G Major without looking back.

* * *

_Sorry for the wait. Spring Break is over for me, so it's back to the grind of studying law everyday. At the start, I hated this chapter. I found it frustrating and wanted to just rush everything so I can get to Jude and Tommy interactions. My original outline didn't have Tommy making an appearance for like 10 chapters, but I just couldn't do it. I took some liberties in the studio flashback, but I think it works. Anyway, standard disclaimer applies._


	6. Whoever Walks a Furlong Without Sympathy

_Six: Walk a Furlong Without Sympathy_

_And whoever walks a furlong without sympathy_

_Walks to his own funeral_

_Drest in his shroud._

_Walt Whitman, Song of Myself_

* * *

_**Meanwhile, in Montana**_

Tommy opened the door to the black limo and helped Whittier climb into the backseat. He closed the umbrella that had been sheltering her from the rain before climbing in beside her. He carefully wiped the rain drops off his dark sunglasses with expensive shirt. It seemed oddly fitting that it was such a dark and dreary day that they laid Cadence D'Aubgine to rest. Surely it was just a cruel joke that the four-year-old had spent over three months in a coma just to die. And it was an even crueler joke that Whittier no longer had her parents or her sister.

"Uncle Tommy?" Whittier tugged on his sleeve.

"What is it Whit." He asked wearily, not sure if he had it in him to answer any more of her questions.

"Is Cady with Mommy and Daddy now?"

"Yes sweetie, she is."

"Oh." Whittier looked to be as deep in though as a four-year-old could be. "So they're all together in heaven? Without me?"

Tommy froze. What was he supposed to say to that?

"Um, well, yeah. They're all up in heaven. But they're not without you. They are all watching over you."

"Really? They're watching over me?"

"You bet. And one day, you'll all get to be together again."

Not for the first time, Tommy found himself silently cursing his brother Jimmy for dying and leaving him in charge of this little girl. He knew nothing about children. Sure, he wanted a family some day. And he loved Whittier. But he couldn't stay in Montana forever, and he couldn't take Whittier away from the only thing she had left. All he wanted was to go home and make things right with Jude. He'd thought about bringing Whittier back to Toronto with him, but who was he kidding. He was an ex-boy bander, not a suitable guardian for a young child. Plus, Montana was the only familiar thing left in her life.

Surely there was someone better suited for caring for Whit. He knew that his brother named him guardian because he could support the girls – and because he probably never expected to die so young. Not his parents, but what about Christine's? Or didn't Christine have a much older sister? Yes! Amanda! She was in her late thirties, and single. The only problem was she lived in San Fransisco, or San Diego, or one of the San cities.

He'd call the lawyer in the morning to see how he could get in contact with her.

* * *

**The next day, in Canada**

"I found her!" Patsy yelled out to her boyfriend.

"Oh thank God!" Jamie ran over. The but the sight before him was dismal. Jude lay on the floor of a popular abandoned warehouse, passed out. Even more shocking was the syringe that laid next to her outstretched arm. She had on the same clothing that she'd been wearing when she'd bolted from the studio the day before. It was obvious what had happened. After her breakdown, Jude had come to one of the underground clubs and let herself get lost in another world – one where she wasn't Jude Harrison, Instant Star.

"Grab her right arm, I've got her left. We better get her out of here before the paparazzi get wind of this." Patsy said with a surprising amount of compassion. Jamie did as she suggested, and the two of them got her into Patsy's backseat.

"Hey, Kwest, we found her. Yeah, yeah, she's fine, she just needs to sleep it off. We're going to take her home. Tell Sadie, and let Darius know she'll be in tomorrow." Jamie hung up his cell phone and turned around to stare at the girl he once knew better than anyone. What happened to you Jude, he wondered.

* * *

"You're doing a cover?" Jamie yelled at her.

She said nothing. It was her first day back at G Major and she had quite an audience. Darius had threatened to hire bodyguards for her, that is, to keep her from ditching out on it again. She'd convinced him not to, but he seemed to feel a need to supervise her anyway.

"A Nine inch Nails, Johnny Cash cover?" Jamie continued his ranting.

She hit the first few cords of _Hurt_.

"The Jude Harrison I know doesn't do covers. Even when her job was on the line, she wouldn't cover D's favorite. And now this?"

"Just be glad I agreed to record anything at all." Jude said softly. Her heart wasn't into this. Darius had been insistent that she make another album – and fast. Eventually, she just gave in and agreed to do it. It's not like she had a lot of options, she had signed a three year contract after all.

Jude began to play and let the mournful lyrics flow from her mouth. It might not have been her song, but she was making it her own. In that instant, they all realized that Jude wouldn't be writing her own lyrics for some time.

"Kwest, I need you to..."

"I'm already on it D. What do you want, anything but love songs."

"Just write whatever works, as long as she can make it convincing."

Jude didn't even argue with Kwest when he suggested that he help her write her new album.

"I know it's because Darius asked you." She said, not meeting his gaze.

"I'd have done it anyway."

"I'd rather it be you than some corporate sellout who doesn't know me." She paused. "Listen, I'll sing whatever you want. Under two conditions." Kwest nodded for her to continue. "One, you don't ever make me sing about him."

"Wasn't gonna touch that."

"Two, you let me rearrange the studio to my liking." It was an odd request to Kwest, but seemed fair enough.

"Deal, Harrison."

And with that, Jude Harrison reluctantly began recording her third album.

* * *

The recording process wasn't a smooth one. Jude sang everything that was put in front of her, but she rarely showed any emotion. The songs were technically perfect, but they sounded so hollow and empty. More mornings than not, Darius had to dispatch Mason, Jamie, Patsy and the SME boys to go find where she'd passed out the night before. At first she'd been partying and not showing up for work out of hopes that Darius would fire her. But after a while, it became a need. A growing hunger. She began to loathe sobriety. The days when she was sober were filled with cutting and other destructive behaviors designed to keep her panic attacks at bay. When she wasn't at G Major, she devoured whatever illicit substances she could get her hands on. She'd tried just about everything. And Patsy no longer came out to party with her. Jamie was constantly telling her that she was over doing it, but what did he know. The boy was so strait laced that he wouldn't know fun if it bit him on the ass. 

She loved the anonymity of the underground party scene. All it took was sunglasses and a hoodie, and no one every suspected that she was Jude Harrison. It'd been almost six months, and the tabloids had yet to get a hold of pictures of her doing anything out of the ordinary. There was growing speculation about why Darius hadn't allowed her to make public appearances or to hold concerts. No one knew it was because the great Darius Mills had absolutely no control over Jude. What little power he did have went towards keeping her out of trouble with the law.

Darius was growing more and more anxious as Jude's birthday and cd release date grew closer. There was only 3 days left until the party. He'd rushed the production on this cd, because frankly, he had no idea how much longer that Jude could make it before hitting bottom. Many times, he'd considered putting her into rehab. And each time she had promised him that she wouldn't party any more, that she was done with drinking and drugs. What could he say, he still had a soft spot in his heart for the kid. She'd been through so much. Deep down, he knew that if Quincy would just come back, everything would work out. So he bought her excuses. It was the wrong thing to do, and he knew it. But then again, how was he to know how deadly that wrong decision would prove to be.

* * *

_**Back in Montana,**_

Every night, after Whittier was in bed and the nanny went home, Tommy would take out Jude's journal. Tonight, he'd re-read the lyrics they'd written the night of her seventeenth birthday. _Tell me you want me, wherever you are. Tell me you breathe me till your last breath. _Oh, if only she knew the true impact of those words. That night he'd come so close to confessing his feelings to her.

_"I never lied to you Jude. I never cheated on Sadie. I'll swear by anything you want."They had finished writing the song that was Jude's personal attack on Tommy and his relationship with Sadie, and were now sprawled on a moth eaten couch._

_"So... I pushed you into the hot tub for telling the truth." Jude looked at him sheepishly, "What else can I be? All apologies." He understood her actions, he would have done the same thing in her place. She was just watching out for her sister. He took a deep breath before speaking again._

_"You know, people, they don't always see who you really are. But I need you to try." He wondered if they'd ever be able to recover from this rift._

_"I always thought I saw the real you." Her voice was so soft, he almost didn't hear it. _

_"Believe me. In me. Again."_

_"I want too." Her eyes filled with tears, she looked as though she was about to cry. All he wanted to do was pull her close and hold on tight, make her realize that everything would be okay. _

_"Sadie and I, we weren't right."He had to make her see that._

_"Why?" There were so many ways he could answer that question._

_"You know exactly why." He waited for his words to hit her. When they did, she looked up at him with complete understanding. Don't look at me like that, it makes me want to kiss you too much._

_ Oh, if only you knew Jude, if only you knew._

_It took every ounce of self control that he had to keep from kissing her right then and there. But she had a boyfriend, if Spiederman could be considered such a thing. And he still wasn't that guy. Instead, he moved closer to her and allowed her to rest her head on his chest. As she drifted off to sleep, he ran his fingers through her hair, dreaming of a day when they would be together._

_Spiederman and Jamie busting through the door to 'rescue' her from his clutches had quickly brought an end to the magic of the time they'd shared that night._

What was the date? It suddenly dawned on him that her birthday had to be fast approaching. He'd been seeing print ads for her newest album, and knew that it was being released soon. It killed him that he hadn't been there to help.

G Major would be throwing her a party for her birthday and the album release, if he knew Darius. He thought about sending an anonymous present for her, but he knew she'd figure out it was from him. Perhaps flowers? Yes. Flowers would be perfect...

* * *

_Not the most realistic of chapters as far as the recording process goes. And a weak ending. But, fear not loyal readers, chapter seven will soon follow._

_Oh, and disclaimer yaddy yaddy yadda  
_


	7. The Suicide Sprawl

_Seven: The Suicide Sprawls_

"_The Suicide sprawls on the bloody floor of the bedroom, I witness the corpse with its dabbled hair, I note where the pistol has fallen" -Walt Whitman_

* * *

On her sixteenth birthday, she'd been publicly dumped by Shay and had her heart torn out by Tommy. On her seventeenth birthday, she'd gotten locked in the Chrome Cat with Tommy. Not that that had been horrible, although the look on Spied's face when he found them was bad enough. There was absolutely nothing on the planet that could prepare her for the events of her eighteenth birthday. Before Tommy had left, she'd wanted to have a giant blow out, to get dressed up and feel like a princess. It was an unspoken understanding between them, something would happen once she turned eighteen. He'd no longer be 'that guy'. She might not be his twenty-one year old ideal, but she had come a long way from an awkward fifteen year old. Turning eighteen was supposed to be magical. It was supposed to allow her and Tommy to finally be together. But that wasn't going to happen now was it? Not now, not ever. Tommy made his choice when he walked out on her six months ago. 

"Jude, are you done changing?" Sadie called into her dressing room. Jude looked down at the slinky black dress she wore. Portia and Sadie had spent hours picking it out, and Jude had to admit it was almost perfect. Almost. Tommy on her arm would have made it perfect.

Damnit, don't think of him!

Jude looked into the mirror and wiped the tell tale traces of white powder from her nose before pulling on a pair of full length black evening gloves. A second glance showed her that every strand of her neon pink hair was perfectly in place. She smirked as she remembered the look of horror Sadie and Portia had when she showed up to the studio that morning with bright pink hair. Even she had to admit that it was a little over the top, but then again, it was completely worth it to see that look of on Sadie and Portia. Sadly, Darius had taken it in stride, just as he took everything she threw at him. He must be on some killer anti-anxiety drugs, or something, she thought.

"Yeah, I'll be out in a minute." She finally yelled back. The first single off her album, a catchy song named _Not That Innocent,_ was playing over the loudspeakers. Kwest and Spied had written it for her, and she had to admit that it was the only song she liked off her album. She didn't feel like a complete fraud singing it, because in reality, it was true. She really wasn't that innocent anymore.

It's now or never, she thought to herself as she stumbled out of her dressing room and into Sadie.

"Damnit Jude, are you high?" Sadie hissed angrily at her. Jude said nothing, putting on what had become her 'trademark' sunglasses. "I can't believe you! You better not ruin this! Kwest and everyone have worked their asses off on your album and they deserve some recognition. You're supposed to be celebrating that you're turning eighteen and releasing your third album, remember?"

"Oh, I am celebrating. Just in my own way." Jude tried to walk away, but ended up stumbling into a wall.

"I'm getting Spied. He's your escort tonight, in case you've forgotten."

At least she'd be able to have some fun with Spied and the SME boys. They were always good for a laugh. And with the coke quickly making its way through her system, she was ready to go crazy for a little bit.

"There you are!" Sadie yelled as Spied came jogging up to the pair. "Jude decided to have her own private party. So, you're going to need to help her out for a while. I don't care what it takes, I want your arm around her waist at all times. Don't let anyone see her stumbling around. If you can't be there with her, give her to one of the other boys. Anything. Just don't leave her alone. At all. If you screw this up, I will kill you."

"Dude, chill. Jude Dude's secret is safe with me. I know the drill. Why do you think the Paparazzi think we're an item. If we're in public, I'm holding on to her tight." Spied wanted to make light of the situation, but couldn't bring himself to. When Jude was around, he found himself less and less interested in making jokes and having fun.

"Aww, Spied, and here I thought you just liked groping my ass!" Jude giggled.

"Oh great, she's going to be hyper isn't she." Sadie groaned.

"Fear not, Lady Sadie, hyper is a SME specialty. No one will notice a thing." With that, he carefully led a still giggling Jude over to the staircase to make her big entrance. Looking down at the deadly stilletos she was wearing, he had a feeling that the stairs weren't a good idea. She would never make it down alive. Then he spotted Wally.

"Hey, Wallster, come give me a hand with the birthday girl." When Wally came over, he quietly explained his plan. They would each grab a leg, so that Jude would end up sitting on their arms, it would appear that they were giving Jude the royal treatment by carrying her down the stairs.

* * *

The party went better than was to be expected. The SME boys covered up most of Jude's antics and Sadie ran damage control on everything else. 

"Sadie, I'm exhausted. I'm sober. I've made nice with the reporters. Can I please go back to my dressing room? Without an escort?" Jude pleaded. It was nearly one in the morning – it wasn't even her birthday anymore. Part of her had been sure that Tommy would waltz through the door like he'd never left. When he didn't, all she wanted was to be alone.

"Yeah, sure. I'll be by in a bit and we'll head home." Sadie said distractedly. Jude knew that Sadie would be distracted by Kwest for a while.

Jude's jaw dropped when she entered her dressing room. Laying on the vanity was a huge bouquet of purple Tiger orchids, pink Asiatic lilies and gladiolas. Everyone else had sent generic roses. There was only one person who knew her well enough to send her that combination of flowers.

Tommy.

Her hand trembled as she reached for the card that was nestled between the stems. There was no writing on the outside of the envelope. She took a deep breath before tearing it open. It was his handwriting on a blank piece of card stock.

_Tell me you want me, wherever you are. Tell me you breathe me till your last breath. _

_I mean it from the bottom of my heart._

Why now Tommy.

Jude couldn't bring herself to throw the card away, choosing instead to wedge it into the frame of her mirror. At least now she knew he was still thinking of her. The thought comforted her far more than she wanted it too.

"Hey blondie, you in here?" Jude was startled by Patsy's sudden entrance into her private world.

"Hey Pats, thanks for knocking." She replied sarcastically, hastily dropping Tommy's flowers back on the vanity.

"No problem. You wanna get out of here? There's a killer party down in the warehouse district. And I don't know about you, but I have had it up to here with corporate bullshit tonight."

"Fighting with the Jamester again?" Jude asked as she searched for her purse.

"I will not let my night be ruined by that corporate sellout. You in or what."

"Absolutely. We just have to get out of here without Sadie catching me."

"No problem. SME is playing monkey in the middle with something expensive and breakable. She'll be tied up for a while. Let's get the hell out of here. Oh, and can you drive, Jamie took my damn keys." Patsy said.

"Let me grab my coat and we'll split." Jude was eager to forget the night.

* * *

"Sades, relax, it's not like Jude's never pulled a disappearing act before. Hell, this isn't even the first time this week. Plus, she's with Patsy. She'll be fine. I'll take the SME boys out first thing in the morning to find her." Kwest tried desperately to placate his girlfriend. 

"I know, I just have a bad feeling about this. I mean, come on. It's Jude's birthday. Things never go right on her birthday." Sadie sat down next to Kwest, who put his arm around her waist.

"It'll be fine, now how about you and me relax - " He was cut off by the ringing of Sadie's phone.

"Jude, is that you?" Sadie asked frantically when she answered the call.

"Hello, I'm calling from the Crenshaw Heights Memorial Hospital. To whom am I speaking?"

"This is Sadie Harrison."

"I'm afraid to be the barer of bad news ma'am, but a Jude Harrison was seriously injured in a car accident tonight. She's undergone emergency surgery, I recommend you get here as fast as possible." The call disconnected and all the color drained from Sadie's face.

"What, who was it?" Kwest asked.

"Crenshaw Heights Hospital. They... they have Jude." Before she even finished the sentence Kwest had grabbed his keys and their coats.

"I'll drive, lets go."

* * *

Still in their party wear, Sadie and Kwest ran into Admitting at Crenshaw Heights. 

"Hi, I'm looking for Jude Harrison."

"Are you family?" The elderly receptionist asked without glancing up from her computer screen.

"Yes, yes, I'm her sister."

"Sixth floor, ask at the nurses station."

"Come on Kwest!" Sadie grabbed her boyfriends hand and pulled him towards the elevator.

"Chill Sadie, everything is going to be ok. I promise." Kwest tried his best to comfort her. He knew she was at her wits end with Jude. Both their parents were AWOL, Jude had fallen in with a bad crowd and hadn't been to school in months, and Sadie felt completely responsible. The elevator couldn't reach the sixth floor fast enough for Kwest.

"I'm looking for Jude Harrison." Sadie blurted out as soon as they reached the nurses station.

"Oh." The nurse on duty said quietly. "I'll page her doctor for you. Have a seat and the doctor will be right with you."

Kwest escorted Sadie to a cluster of chairs and helped her sit down. "I'm gonna go call people alright, don't worry. I'll be back in just a few minutes." He kissed her forehead gently and left to call Darius, Jamie, and SME – all the people who were important to Jude. All the people who needed to be there for her right now. Or almost all of them. For what had to be the millionth time he found himself cursing Tommy for disappearing. He knew rationally that Tommy had to have a damn good reason for leaving. The man had all but admitted he loved her to him just a few hours of disappearing.

_It was the night before Jude's record release party and she was playing a small preview concert for fans._

_"Hey T, got plans tonight? I was thinking about hitting up a hot new club after we finished tonight." Kwest asked as he checked the connections on a sound board._

_"Can't. Already got plans." Tommy replied as he watched Jude mess around with SME._

_"Plans. Care to elaborate?" Kwest followed Tommy's gaze to Jude. "No way, are you guys finally..."_

_"Yeah. I asked her to have dinner with me at Chulo's when we're done here." He replied, not breaking his close observation of Jude. She and Kyle were wrestling over a drumstick when one of Kyle's hands drifted below Jude's waist. "KYLE! HANDS!" Kwest could see the jealousy rising in his face, just like when Shay's hands had gone where Tommy felt they shouldn't during their video shoot. Tommy was just as protective - no, possesive, of her even then. Intimidated by the tone of Tommy's voice, Kyle had abruptly let go of Jude and made a hasty exit.  
_

_"Man, you've got it so bad for that girl." Kwest laughed at him. Tommy still hadn't looked at him, he was too busy watching Jude who was now tuning her guitar._

_"So what if I do." He muttered._

_"Tommy, you know you can't just have some fling with her. When you get sick of her in a few months, you can't just dump her and move on with your life. It would kill the girl." Kwest said quietly. Tommy finally turned to look at him._

_"And what if she's the one." With that he stalked off to go 'help' Jude tune her guitar, leaving Kwest in open mouthed disbelief. He watched as Tommy took a seat closer than necessary to her and whispered something in her ear that made both of them smile. Tommy pressed a tender kiss to her temple before taking the guitar from her. Jude began to sing as Tommy played the guitar for her. Kwest recognized the song as White Lines, the song they had recorded mysteriously one night without him. The look of happiness on Tommy's face was undeniable. In ten years, Kwest had never seen his best friend look as happy as he did when he was with Jude Harrison. _

Kwest was brought back to the present by Sadie screaming. He raced back to where she sat and heard the doctor say, "I'm so sorry. We truly did all that we could."

* * *

_My apologies for the delay in this. No matter what I tried, I couldn't make this chapter work right. This must be my fifth or sixth version - which is a lot for me. Luckily, I also have alot of the next two chapters written, so hopefully I'll be updating them ASAP._

_And as always, standard disclaimer applies._


	8. What You Think You Know

_Eight: What You Think You Know_

"_What you think you know doesn't necessarily have much to do with reality."_

_Sam, in _Life as a House

* * *

_**Meanwhile, In Montana,**_

Tommy was jolted awake by the ringing of his cell phone. He glanced at his bedside clock. It was only nine in the morning. Who the hell would be calling him at this hour. Furthermore, who the hell had this number.

"Hello." He answered gruffly.

"Mr. Quincy. This is Ace Reynolds. I'm a private investigator. I was retained by your lawyer to locate one Amanda Bryant." Replied an unfamiliar voice.

Amanda Bryant? Private investigator? What the... Suddenly things started to click into place. Christine's sister.

"Yes. Of course. What did you find out."

"Amanda Bryant, 39, kindergarten teacher in San Jose, California. Lives alone, two cats, no boyfriend. Her address is 4913 Riverside Drive." Reynolds recited the information he'd dug up on Amanda.

"Excellent. I appreciate this. Do you have a phone number for her?"

Tommy quickly wrote down the digits that Ace Reynolds rattled off. He'd called the investigator only a few days after the funeral, when he was still overwhelmed with being appointed guardian. When his thoughts were still consumed with visions of one Jude Harrison. Before his days had been filled with storybooks and planning play dates. To tell the truth, he'd grown to be content with his role as single father. That is, he would be if the circumstances were different. Different meant having Jude.

Dialing the number Ace Reynolds had given him Tommy held his breath and waited for an answer. He wasn't sure why he was calling. Something about his original plan to give up custody as soon as possible just didn't eel right.

"Hello?" A feminine voice answered the phone.

"Hi. Is this Amanda Bryant?" He asked.

"Yes... and this is?" She responded tentatively.

"Thomas Quincy. Rather, Thomas D'Aubigne."

"You're Jimmy's brother, right?"

"Yes. Are you Christine's sister?" Tommy could hear Whit and her nanny making breakfast in the kitchen. Whit was giggling while the nanny sang songs from popular tv shows. His well trained ear recognized the potential in her voice. But she was no Jude Harrison.

"I am. I heard about Cadence. I wanted to come out for the funeral, but I just couldn't afford it on a teacher's salary. How is Whittier holding up?" Amanda's voice was full of concern.

"She's doing surprisingly well. She's actually the reason I'm calling. As I'm sure you're aware, for some unknown reason Jimmy and Christine appointed me her guardian." He shifted the phone from one ear to the other and rummaged through his closet for clean jeans and a t-shirt and quickly dressed. Exiting his room he leaned against the banister of the staircase. From his vantage point he could see Whit dancing around as the nanny flipped pancakes. She looked so happy. As though the past months hadn't even happened. Granted, she still had her bad days, but she was adjusting better than he'd expected.

"Yeah. I remember talking to Chris about it. She said that Jimmy was convinced that the girls would be good for you. She'd wanted to leave them to me, but relented in the end."

"That's what I'm calling about. Originally, I was planning on taking Whittier and Cadence to Toronto with me once Cadence was healthy enough to travel. But now that Cadence... anyway, Montana is the only familiar thing Whit has left. I can't take her away from here."

"But you have a life to get back to?"

"It sounds so bad when you say it like that." Tommy already felt guilty enough about what he had been intending to do.

"It's ok. I understand. I know you want what's best for everyone. Plus, lets be honest, a 25 year old ex-boybander or a 39 year old kindergarten teacher. Who knows more about four year old girls." Tommy laughed at that. It certainly was true. He was clueless about Whit and how to raise her.

"I hired a nanny for her. I want her to know her family. I was hoping..."

"That I'd drop everything and move to Montana to take her off your hands?" She laughed dryly at the thought.

"Wow. Not quite what I was going for. I was hoping..." He paused, what exactly was he hoping for. Originally, that she would take Whit. But that was months ago. Now. Now he just wanted nothing more than to give her a happy childhood. And to be honest, with each passing day it became more difficult to imagine not having her in his life.

There was a long uncomfortable pause.

"You were hoping..." Amanda prompted. When he said nothing, she continued: "I'm sorry Mr. Quincy, but I can't take her. I'd love too, really I would. But I can't." He could hear the regret in her voice.

"No. Wait. What? I'm sorry, I think I've given you the wrong impression."

"Oh?"

"Look, I intend to keep custody of Whit. However, I was hoping you would be interested in taking a role in raising her. I want her to know her mother's family. Maybe when she's older she could come visit for the summer, or spend holidays with you. I just want the kid to have family."

"Oh." Amanda sounded as shocked as he was. It was the truth. He wanted Whit in his life. He really did, even if it meant giving up Jude.

"Would you like to talk to her?" He wasn't sure why he was offering. But it felt right.

"Yes, is she around?" For the first time in their conversation, Amanda sounded hopeful.

"Sure is, hold on." He covered the mouth piece on the phone before calling for Whit. The girl came quickly, braids bouncing as she ran to him.

"What is it Uncle Tommy?"

"There's someone on the phone for you." He smiled at her and held it out to her. He couldn't help but grin at her look of astonishment as she took the phone. Listening to her talk to Amanda reinforced that he'd made the right decision.

* * *

_**Back at the Hospital,**_

"I'm so sorry. We truly did all that we could... Would you like to speak to the girl who was brought in with her?" The doctor asked.

"Is Patsy ok?" Sadie asked between sobs.

"Patsy? No, I'm sorry. There must be some confusion. The girl brought in with Jude gave the name Sadie Harrison, said she was the passenger's sister." The doctor flipped through a chart to confirm the name of the patient in 620.

"I'm sorry, that's not possible." Kwest told the doctor. "_This_ is Sadie Harrison." The doctor looked bewildered by Kwest's statement.

"Uh... well... neither girl had any identification. We got all of the information from the driver. Perhaps the best way to figure this out would be to speak with her. Follow me, please." Kwest helped Sadie up and they trailed after the doctor. Pausing outside room 620 the doctor continued, "I should warn you, the girl is quite banged up. She broke her leg, cracked three ribs, and has a mild concussion. I believe she's currently sedated."

The trio stepped into the small room and Sadie nearly fainted when she saw who was laying in the bed.

"It's Jude." Sadie cried out as she rushed to Jude's side.

"I'm sorry?" The doctor questioned.

"Can I, uh, talk to you outside?" Kwest asked. They stepped out into the hall, leaving Sadie to deal with having lost and found her sister all in a matter of minutes. "That's Jude Harrison you have in that bed," he explained.

"We had no idea. But if that's Jude, then who..."

"Was she about 5'7", black hair, heavy on the eyeliner?"

"Yes, I believe so."

"That is, was, Patsy Sewer. Jude's best friend. They left Jude's birthday party together earlier tonight." Kwest felt relieved to know that Jude was alive, but losing Patsy was almost as devastating.

"But why the false names?"

"For one, Jude Harrison is a rather famous recording artist. Imagine her with blond hair and you'll likely recognize her. More importantly, Patsy is homeless. Jude probably thought that by giving Patsy her name, Patsy would receive better treatment and Jude would receive all the bills." The doctor seemed to accept Kwest's explanation of the situation.

"There's something else that needs to be discussed. We've sent Ms. Harrison's – the real Ms. Harrison – blood to be analyzed. It came back with traces of cocaine and heroin. There are also signs of intravenous drug use. Were you aware of this?"

Kwest groaned. How much was it going to take to keep this from going to the tabloids. Darius was not going to be happy.

"Was... was that a factor in the accident?" He was afraid to hear the answer.

"Actually, no. While the passenger's blood-alcohol levels were through the roof, Ms. Harrison did not test positive. It's hard to say about the effect of the drugs, but according to witnesses, a semi driver fell asleep at the wheel and veered into the other lane of traffic. Ms. Harrison tried to avoid him, but it was too late. The driver's side took the brunt of the impact, which explains Ms. Harrison's injuries, but it appears Ms... uh, Sewer wasn't wearing a seatbelt. She was ejected from the car. There was internal bleeding, and we were unable to save her." The doctor knew he shouldn't be disclosing the information to non-family, but he desperately wanted to avoid a lawsuit for falsely informing them that Jude Harrison was dead. Hopefully this would help a little.

"Alright. Listen, I'm Jude and Patsy's producer. I need you to keep Jude admitted as 'Sadie' and if anyone – and I mean anyone – calls asking about the accident, the answer is you haven't admitted a Jude Harrison, not that the hospital has no comment, or her condition can't be disclosed – the correct answer is that you have no patient by that name. As far as we're concerned, she was never brought in tonight, right?" Kwest did his best to look menacing. He wished Darius would get there already, he was far better at damage control and intimidation.

"Of course. I'll be sure to make the appropriate changes to records. Jude was never here. Patsy Sewer and Sadie Harrison were involved in a car accident tonight. Will that be satisfactory?" The doctor nervously took a step back from Kwest.

"Yes. Now, if a Darius Mills arrives, direct him here. Same goes for a trio of teenaged boys – Spied, Wally and Kyle. And when Jamie Andrews arrives, that is Patsy's boyfriend, her only family. Notify him and bring him here," Kwest said in his best 'I mean business' voice.

The doctor nodded and scurried off to do as he was told. Kwest stepped back into Jude's room. Sadie was still at Jude's side, crying. He felt helpless. Now it seemed there was nothing left to do but wait.

* * *

An hour later, Jude was still under the effects of the sedatives and Sadie had regained most of her composure. Everyone else had arrived. Jamie and Darius had left to deal with Patsy's death. Jamie seemed to be in a state of shock, as though the events of the night hadn't quite hit him yet. The boys of SME were uncharacteristically well behaved. Since their arrival, they had remained seated – in the same seats – outside Jude's room. Even stranger, none of them had uttered a word. If Jude would just wake up, everything would be ok.

That last part was a lie, and Kwest knew it. Nothing about Jude Harrison's life had been ok since Tommy left. Tonight had been a wake up call to him. All along they had been keeping Jude's drinking and drug use from becoming public knowledge. None of them had tried to stop her. She'd become a broken shell of a person, and they'd done nothing. He'd done nothing. The logical part of his brain screamed at him to confront Darius about the cover ups, but the realistic part of his brain argued back that everyone was in too much denial to deal with it.

What Jude needed was Tommy. He may have been the reason behind everything that Jude was doing, but Kwest knew his friend had been in the exact same place that Jude was headed.

"Where am I?" Jude's confused moan radiated through the small room and jolted Kwest from his thoughts.

"Jude! You're awake! You're ok! I was so worried!" Sadie shrieked. "Kwest, go get everyone."

"Wait! What happened. Tell me first." At that, Kwest paused in the doorway. He looked at Sadie. She was silently pleading with him to be the barer of bad news.

"Uh, Jude there was an accident. A semi crossed into your lane..." He didn't know how to say the rest.

"That explains why I feel like I've been hit by a truck. How's Patsy, she's okay right? Right?" Kwest let his silence indicate the answer. "Oh. God. She's..."

"Dead. And you killed her." Jamie had appeared in the doorway. The reality of Patsy's death had finally hit him. "I wish you'd died instead. I hate you." What little color was left in Jude's face quickly drained away.

"Jamie!" Sadie hissed angrily.

"I think it's time you go." Kwest grabbed Jamie's arm and forced him out into the hallway. "What the hell was that for!"

"It's the truth and you know it. It's her fault Patsy's dead." Jamie said without remorse.

"No. It's the semi driver who fell asleep at the wheel's fault. Or, it's Patsy's for not wearing a seatbelt. Blame who you want. But this wasn't Jude's doing. Go home. Get some sleep." Once again, Kwest found himself doing his best to look intimidating. "Kyle, Wally, Spied, can you guys make sure he get's home in one peace?" Kyle and Wally nodded, dumbfounded, and each grabbed one of Jamie's arms. Spied lingered behind.

"Is dude gonna be alright?" He whispered.

"Yeah. Just a few busted bones. Not enough to keep Jude down. She'll be fine. Go take Jamie home, get some sleep, I'll make sure you get a call when she's up for visitors."

Spied took a few steps in the direction his band mates had gone before stopping again, "I never thought I'd say this. But I wish Tommy was here."

* * *

_My deepest apologies loyal readers, I intended to have this out a while ago, but real life got in the way. Anyway. We all knew Jude wasn't dead. I mean, how is it a Jommy if she's dead? When I planned this story, Helter Skelter hadn't aired yet. So I intended a majority of the story to be about Jude and Patsy getting close and Patsy helping Jude get through everything - this is evidenced in the first few chapters of this. I then intended to kill of Patsy to create some havoc in Jude's life (fear not, I'm not giving away any spoilers for the future of this fic). But after watching Helter Skelter, well, damnit, IS stole my idea! I still wanted to kill of Patsy, but I didn't want it to feel like I copied Helter Skelter. I hope it didn't. _

_As always, standard disclaimer applies. And if you haven't seen _Life as a House_, I recommend you do so. It's an amazing movie._


	9. I've Come Here Not to Find Answers

_Nine: I've Come Here Not to Find Answers_

_I've come here not to find answers, _

_but to find a way to live in a world without any._

_Sue Monk Kidd,_ The Mermaid Chair

* * *

_**In Montana,**_

Tommy glared at the computer screen in front of him. Download progress: Sixty-Six Percent. It had been an hour. And it still wasn't done.

This wasn't how it was supposed to be. Jude's birthday had been a few days ago. He'd spent the night getting drunk and reading her journal. And he vaguely remembered writing a song. No, this wasn't how it was supposed to be at all. He was supposed to escort Jude to her eighteenth birthday party, where the illicit thoughts he had of her would no longer be so wrong.

They were supposed to smile for the cameras, talk about her new album, and then as the party wound down he would pull her off to the side and ask her to meet him at his apartment later. When she would arrive hours later, he would waste no time in telling her how amazing she was, how much he needed her, how empty he felt when they were apart. He would confess his love for her, and for the first time in his life, he would mean it. She would smile up at him with those big eyes of hers and tell him she loved him too. They would kiss, and it would be a kiss that wouldn't be taken back or forgotten. After countless kisses, he'd ask her to stay the night, and she would drift off to sleep in his arms.

He had dreamed it hundreds of times. Planned every detail and move. Every detail except for her gift. Her real gift – not whatever cheesy present Portia selected for him to give her at the G Major party. He'd considered giving her a piece of his mother's jewelery, but didn't want to scare her. He thought about buying her something extravagant, like a classic car, but that would draw too much attention to them. A weekend away had also been vetoed for the same reason. In the end, he probably would have written her a song, something that told the story of their relationship and showed her how much he had been paying attention even when they had been fighting. She would have cried, and he'd wipe away the tears and tell her he'd be there always.

But none of that had happened.

Instead, he was sitting in front of a computer screen waiting for her album to download. Relegated to the sidelines of Jude Harrison's life. Heartbroken. Defeated. Perhaps even obsolete.

* * *

_**Jude's Bedroom**_

Everything was a blur for Jude. She remembered leaving her party, she remembered seeing a semi veer into her lane, and then she woke up in a strange room with a hysterical Sadie crying about how she wasn't really dead. From there, things got clearer, but she wished that they could be blurred. She remembered all to clearly how Jamie had yelled at her, telling her that it was her fault Patsy was dead.

How had everything come to this, she wondered. She knew the real answer to that. Tommy. Tommy fucking Quincy. Everything in her life came back to him. It had been her anguish over his leaving that sent her to see Mason on tour. And that had led to a very dark place for her.

Patsy had told her once that when she finally hit bottom, everything would be ok. At the time, she'd thought it was complete bullshit. But now. Now she was beginning to believe it. The only problem was how much is it going to take for her to hit rock bottom. Hell, she'd gotten her best friend's girlfriend killed – was that rock bottom enough? No. That wasn't true. She hadn't gotten her best friend's girlfriend killed. She'd gotten Patsy killed. Her and Jamie hadn't truly been best friends since everything happened with Kat. Kat. Just one more gigantic fuck up in a never ending list. She missed Kat. The last she'd heard Kat was living in New York City, going to fashion school, living her dream.

Automatically, she reached for the small black makeup bag that held everything she needed to feel better. She poured some of the white powder onto a small mirror and quickly cut it into four lines. She was about to inhale it and escape to blissful ignorance, when there was a knock at her door.

"Hey Harrison." She looked up and saw Spied standing in the doorway.

"Uh... this isn't what it looks like," she said lamely.

"Oh. Ok. Cause it looks like you're about to snort some coke," he retorted.

"Ok... so it is what it looks like."

Spied walked over and took the mirror and razor blade from her and placed them on her nightstand. He sat down on the bed next to her, but didn't say anything. They just sat there in silence. Each passing minute drove Jude crazy. She'd expected him to yell, or get pissed off, or cry, or well, anything. Instead he just sat there, with the most serious and intense look she'd ever seen on him. While it wasn't exactly a state secret that she'd snort anything put in front of her these days, she'd also never actually been caught in the act.

"Say something. Please," she pleaded with him when she couldn't stand the silence any longer.

"Why."

"Why what."

"Why do you do it." So that serious look on his face had been him doing some deep thinking. Jude looked at him and sighed. Was she really ready to let him into this part of her life? Well, there was no one she'd rather let in than Spied. Liar, she told herself. It's still Tommy, it'll always be Tommy. Spied was waiting for an answer. After a few minutes she found words to explain it:

"You know how it feels so amazing when you're almost finished writing an amazing song?" She looked at him, unsure of herself. He nodded for her to continue. "That's how I used to feel, all the time. But you know how sometimes you just can't get the last line or two of that amazing song to work, and you get so frustrated and feel like you will never be able to write something decent again? That's how I feel now. That horrible feeling like nothing will ever be right again. It's with me every minute of every day."

"And doing this takes away that feeling," he finished softly. She nodded as a few slow tears started to roll down her face. She'd never talked to anyone about it, and a part of the old Jude that she had hidden far away was ashamed and embarrassed. His hand brushed the hair out of her face and wiped away the tears. They sat there in silence again, this time with him cradling her face in his hand. She could feel the callouses on his skin from playing the guitar, and they reminded her of Tommy, which just made her cry harder. She needed him to leave, so she could be alone, so she could hide from everything. Liar. She needed to be alone so she could get high.

"Look, Spied..."

"Show me," he cut her off.

"What?"

"Show me. I want to know how you feel. I want to understand what it is that makes me and Wally and Kyle have to search the warehouse district for you all the time. I want to get it. I need to," he said softly.

"Why."

"Because I'm sick of that feeling. Like I'll never be able to write something decent again." And it was true. He was sick of that feeling. Jude's analogy had hit way to close to home. He knew that Tommy was partly behind her feeling so wrong, but he knew there was something deeper, something that maybe she'd be willing to share one day. For him, it was her. He hadn't written anything since his rock goddess muse was replaced by a coked up stranger. When he'd come over, he'd just wanted to talk to her about what was going on, find out what was in her head. That was the advantage to her cast – she couldn't storm out of the room like she was famous for. But when he saw she was about to get high, he just knew he needed to know.

"Are you sure," she whispered, avoiding his gaze. He reached for the mirror and placed it in between them.

"Show me how, Jude." Tears still falling, she quickly snorted the first line as he watched closely. She sat there staring at him, unable to will herself to hand him the rolled up bill she'd used. He reached for it, and she felt his calloused fingers brush hers. Tommy. Almost in slow motion, he took the bill from her and mimicked her actions, grimacing at the unpleasant sensation it gave him. He slid the bill back into her hand and she felt the callouses again. Tommy. Of all things to remind her of Tommy, why did it have to be callouses, she was a musician for gods sake. She looked at the two lines left on the mirror and knew that she was going to need much more. After they each inhaled a second line, Jude cut two more lines. Spied made a move to snort one of them but she shook her head no and inhaled them both.

"So now what," he asked.

"Wait. And then. And then you'll feel like your debut album went platinum." He was about to ask her why she took so much when Wally and Kyle burst into the room. Spied quickly shoved the mirror under a blanket.

"Hey dudes!" Jude greeted them excitedly. This was it, the drugs coursing through her veins. This was what she lived for. No, Tommy was what she lived for. This was what kept her alive.

"Dudes, it's band bonding day!" Kyle exclaimed. Jude gave Spied a questioning look.

"Yeah. Come on Lady Harrison, anything you want to do, we'll do it. Anything. Well, almost anything. No strippers. Unless they are female. No prostitutes of any kind. No farm animals. Let's paint the town..." Spied broke off when he realized he was babbling. Jude was right. It was like finishing an amazing song, and hopefully soon it'd feel like going platinum. This wasn't so bad. Feeling like he could run a marathon. Or beat the hell out of Jamie for yelling at her the other day. Or tell her he didn't want to be the Bart to her Lisa, but the Romeo to her Juliet.

"Right. Well, let's get out of here," Wally said. He handed Jude her crutches but she instead climbed on Spied's back and made him carry her outside. "Spied, you driving?"

"Uh, no. I'm almost out of gas. Someone else drive," he lied. He was losing control fast, but still knew enough not to get behind the wheel.

"I gots a bum leg!" Jude giggled. Kyle and Wally exchanged a knowing look. Spied had obviously found Jude high, and was pulling the 'hyper act'. They would never have guessed what had happened in Jude's bedroom just minutes before.

* * *

An hour and a half later the foursome burst out the door of a shady piercing parlor. 

"I can't believe we did that!" Wally laughed.

"I can't believe Kyle asked about a Prince Albert!" Spied added.

"I can't believe he gave it serious consideration!" Jude exclaimed.

"What? I hear the ladies love it!" Kyle said defensively.

"Yeah, but I'm a lady Kyle. How were we going to all get the same piercing done when I lack the proper anatomy," Jude retorted.

"We could have found you an appropriate alternative," Spied joked as he leered at her.

"Gross. Buzz kill gross. Besides, how awesome is it that we all got our lips pierced. And how awesome is it going to be to see Portia's face tomorrow!" Jude could feel her high dissipating, but for once she didn't mind. She'd forgotten how much fun SME could be. In honor of 'Band Bonding Day' they had all gotten a variation of the lip piercing. Jude had her lower right side done, Wally his labaret, Kyle the lower left side, and Spied had gotten both sides done – venoms, the piercer had called it.

"Yeah, we need to bring the video camera tomorrow. Portia is going to die. This might top Jude's pink hair!"

* * *

**_Montana_**, 

Finally, after two hours, Jude's album had downloaded and was now loaded on Tommy's MP3 player. He was surprisingly nervous about listening to it. Something told him that listening to this would be a bad, bad idea. But he had to. He needed to know that she was still okay, and the best way to know Jude's feelings was through her music. What would feel better, hearing her make amazing music with Kwest and knowing she was doing okay without him, or hearing a horrible album and knowing how much she needed him. Neither alternative was real great. Either way, he wouldn't get what he wanted.

Time to bite the bullet.

Tommy slipped the MP3 player in his back pocket and turned off the computer. He looked in on Whittier and found her peacefully sleeping. Before heading outside to listen to it in solitude and darkness, he stopped by his liquor cabinet for the liquid courage he wished he didn't need.

Once outside, he selected a spot underneath an old oak tree, where he could lean against the sturdy trunk and still see the night sky. He put his headphones on – not those five dollar ones that come with MP3 players these days, but his two hundred dollar studio worthy headphones. Taking a deep breath he finally convinced himself to press play and closed his eyes, hoping to get lost in her voice.

By the second track, he was smoking a cigarette, trying to calm his nerves.

By the fourth track, he was pacing back and forth in the yard.

By the eight track, he'd finished another five cigarettes.

By the end of the final track he knew something was really wrong.

* * *

_So finally, a chapter I really like. It is completely different than the original version, but I randomly decided that I wanted more Spied and SME in this. Anyway, fear not, no matter how much it might feel like it, this isn't going to become a Juderman - no matter what the tabloids think! Next chapter will be up super soon, I swear! And this one goes out to _My Passionate Musician_. Thanks so much for your kind words._

_Oh, and in case you haven't realized it... disclaimer disclaimer disclaimer._


	10. The Worst Pain

_Ten: The Worst Pain A Man Can Suffer_

_The worst pain a man can suffer: to have insight into much and power over nothing._

_-Herodotus_

* * *

When he finally finished listening to the album, Tommy had his answer to what was going to feel worse. Hearing Jude make horrible music, and knowing that she still needed him. Not a single song sounded like Jude. At least, not like his Jude. Not only did the lyrics not fit, her voice held absolutely no emotion. To anyone else, her voice might have sound amazing, but Tommy knew better. This wasn't his Jude.

He'd expected this album to be full of heartbreak and anger, or perhaps even songs about moving on. There hadn't been even one song that sounded vaguely like a 'Fuck You Tom Quincy' song. As conceited as it was, that hurt him a lot. It was like she was saying they never happened. Like their feelings never existed. They never existed.

A true glutton for punishment, he pressed the play button again. A second listen might give him more insight into what was going on. If nothing else, he would be able to lose himself in her – or what was left of her – for another hour.

As the music faded out to the last track, Tommy knew what was so wrong about the album. It wasn't the beats, Kwest had done an awesome job with that. It wasn't her voice, well it was, but how could she put her heart into singing songs she didn't write. She couldn't have written those songs. Songs about being 'not so innocent' or going out to a club – no, that was gimmicky corporate crap, as Jamie had once called it.

Gimmicky corporate crap.

He was going to kill Darius. No, first he was going to confirm Jude hadn't written that crap, then he was going to check where it was on the charts. Probably was at number one. But what good was being number one if Jude had given up her musical integrity for it. That was a lesson he had learned all too well from Boyz Attack.

Electronic liner notes. A blessing and a curse. They were going to tell him who wrote her cd. Quickly scanning the information displayed on the screen, he began to feel relieved. There hadn't been any 'Fuck You Tom Quincy' songs because Jude hadn't even written a single song – just as he'd predicted. Or co-written for that matter. Each song was written by a K. Weston and some were co-written by V. Spiederman. Spied and... Kwest? Well, at least that explained the album title: _A First Time For Everything_. A first time for everything referred to the first time she'd sung someone else's material.

What had happened to Jude? Why hadn't she written this album? She was a songwriter, not a damn pop star. Curiosity was getting the better of him. He'd been avoiding his computer since he got to Montana. He'd known that if he used it he would have emailed her, or worse – searched the gossip columns to find every detail of what she'd been doing since he left.

He finally buckled. A couple clicks of the mouse and he found himself staring at image after image of her. She looked good. She'd dyed her hair light brown, and it looked amazing. He read several articles about Jude's hiatus and new album and whether she could make a hit without Tom Quincy, which of course led to the articles about him leaving. It was all speculation. Most of it laughable. He wanted to see her eyes, to look in them and know everything was ok. But he couldn't find a single picture of her without sunglasses on. It was like she'd morphed into a female version of Shay – or worse... of Lil Tommy Q.

Why were there so many pictures of her and Spiederman... more importantly why was Spiederman's hand in her back pocket and she was draped all over him. Jude was not into that kind of PDA. Not even to toy with the press. There was something off about those pictures.

The headlines said they were back together. Even called them 'Juderman'. It hurt to see pictures of Spiederman as her escort to her eighteenth birthday... that should have been him. And what had she done to her hair... pink? Oh, Portia must have loved that. It was probably on a dare from Patsy or maybe she lost a bet to SME. He knew he should stop looking and go to bed, but a final headline grabbed his attention.

"Jude Harrison Killed in Car Crash". He snorted at the title, he would know if she was dead. He'd have felt it in his gut. The accompanying picture showed Jude's Mustang completely totaled. Whoever had been in that car, it was bad. He quickly scanned the article for any information. It claimed she and Sadie had been in an accident after her party, they were taken to Crenshaw Heights Memorial and Jude didn't make it. Crenshaw Heights? There goes that article's credibility. There's no way Jude would be in that area of town. It was near the warehouse district, where Tommy had spent way too much time in his early teens. No. It probably wasn't even Jude's car. Probably just a stock photo.

Closing the tabloid sites, he looked up the billboard charts. Jude's album had been out for a week. And just like Tommy thought, it was holding the number one position. Jude's album might be gimmicky corporate crap, but that was what sold these days. And she obviously didn't object to singing it, even if she didn't put one hundred percent into it.

Maybe Jude was doing ok after all.

Maybe he was the one holding on to something that wasn't there. Or something that shouldn't be there.

Maybe it was time to get some closure and move on with his life, since Jude seemed to be trying to do the same.

_**Two Weeks Later,**_

"Darius, there's a Thomas D'Aubigne here to see you." Sadie announced over the intercom. Darius was already on the phone and about to tell her to have him make an appointment when he realized that he knew that name. He knew that name all too well.

"Send him in," he said before returning to his phone call.

A hooded figure paused in the doorway to D's office and listened in on the conversation. "What? You've got pictures of her where? Doing what? Alright. How much is this going to cost me. Yeah. Yeah, I'll get it to you by the end of the day." Darius slammed the phone down, muttering about skeezy tabloids.

There was a noise from the doorway. Darius looked at the man standing there. Oh yes, he knew exactly who this was. A weeks worth of beard growth, a winter hat and sunglasses might fool most people, but Darius taught this man how to hide from the paparazzi.

"As I live and breathe. Thomas Quincy D'Aubigne. So I guess you're not dead after all, although you might be by the time I'm done with you. Take off the disguise and start talking Quincy."

Tommy sighed deeply and began to tell Darius everything that had happened since he'd left.

"Look, I know it was wrong for me to just leave. But I really didn't have any choice in the matter. And..." Darius cut him off.

"She's not the same girl you left behind."

"What?"

"Jude. She's changed." Tommy said nothing, this wasn't exactly a surprise to him. "I take it you heard her latest album then," Darius continued.

"Yeah. And it's weak, man. Is that even Jude singing, cause it sure as hell doesn't sound like it. I won't even get started on the lyrics. I can't believe you actually released that crap."

"Well, it's like this. Jude used to have this producer, the music they made... sonic perfection. But one day, out of nowhere, he disappears. The damn son of a bitch took her heart with him. Without it, she didn't have anything left to put into her music. She tried to leave the business, but found herself bound by contract to G Major for another few years. Being the heartless bastard that I am, I demanded an album, she counter-negotiated, and we came up with _A First Time for Everything_. Now, you and I may think it's weak and crap, but the public loves it."

"Then I guess she doesn't need me anymore. That's actually why I'm here. To give you this." Tommy handed him a letter of resignation.

"You may be right. But, your thinking is flawed," Darius said as he read over the letter.

"How's that," Tommy asked, leaning back in his chair. He was still surprised that Darius hadn't screamed, yelled and fired him on the spot.

"You need her just as much as she needs you. The two of you have some crazy symbiotic relationship going on. When you're there, she feeds off of you and thrives. With you gone, there's been nothing to fuel her spirit. If you came back, I can guarantee that she wouldn't so much as give you the time a day. But that creative spark would be back. And she'd probably start writing again, and her hatred for you would create a truly amazing record."

Tommy started to respond, but was cut off by Darius.

"You know I'm right." And it was true, Tommy did know he was right. Not that he would ever admit that Darius Mills was right. "Here's the thing," Darius continued, "I'm not accepting your resignation. You don't want to be VP, that's fine. But I have you signed on as a producer for the next three years – same as Jude. And you know those contracts are iron-clad."

"D, I already explained. I can't come back. Whittier needs Montana, not Toronto." Deep down, Tommy felt relieved that Darius wasn't letting him quit. It meant a little part of him was still tied to G Major, and by proxy, to Jude.

"I'm not asking you to move back. Why don't you consider yourself 'on call'."

"On call?" Tommy had a feeling that he wasn't going to like this.

"Yes. As in, I call, and you come. And before you interrupt me again, it will be for periods of no more than one week, and no more than once a month. No moving necessary. I still get my hot shot producer. Jude gets to be angry as hell, write amazing songs, but not be overwhelmed. And we'll all get another number one album out of this."

"Alright. One condition." Darius gestured for him to continue. "You don't tell Jude about this. First she knows about it will be seeing me in the sound booth." It was risky to spring things on Jude, but at least this way she wouldn't have had time to stew over everything. Or to refuse to work with him.

"You drive a hard bargain, but we have a deal."

"What's the absolute soonest you'd want me here?"

"Two, three months. Maybe never. Jude's going to take a few months off, we'll be starting her next album in March. If Kwest can get her to make amazing music, then I won't have you come." But Darius knew the likelihood of that happening was next to zero.

"Alright. Thanks man."

Darius didn't respond, he'd already returned his attention to the computer screen in front of him.

Tommy put his sunglasses back on and pulled the hood of his sweatshirt back up over his head. In his haste to make a quick and clean exit he accidentally knocked someone to the ground. Looking down at a head of black hair with streaks of pink he assumed it was one of Patsy's friends. He knew he should be a gentleman and help her up, but he didn't care, he needed to get out of G Major before he ran into Jude. Continuing on his way, he froze when an all too familiar voice cut through the air.

"Ass. Way to knock over the girl on crutches."

He turned around. It had come from the girl he'd knocked over. The one who looked like one of Patsy's delinquent friends. Dressed entirely in black. Pink and black hair. A pierced lip. Sunglasses even though they were inside. And was that a cast on her leg? Sure enough, there was a pair of crutches on the ground. She looked nothing like Jude. She was way too skinny to be Jude. Then he saw it. Star ring. Middle finger of the right hand – the same finger she was currently holding up at him.

What the hell had happened to her over the last seven months.

Jude was slowly picking herself up off the ground.

He couldn't let her recognize him, so he acted as though he didn't even see her and quickly ducked out of G Major. The crutches puzzled him. How had she broken her leg. And why the hell did she let Patsy give her a makeover. Then he remembered one of the tabloid rumors he'd read online. 'Jude Harrison killed in car crash on 18th birthday'. Leave it to the tabloids to replace injured with killed. Part of him could imagine Jude joking about the headline, "Reports of my death have been greatly exaggerated". He hated that he wasn't there to take care of her when it happened. What did happen? He made a mental note to dig up the truth on the accident online.

* * *

It wasn't until Tommy was on his flight back to Montana that he was hit with the complete realization of what he'd agreed to. He'd gone to resign and left agreeing to come back as a producer for Jude. Damn Darius! He should have just mailed that letter. Why had it seemed like such a good idea to come tell Darius everything. 

"Oh my gosh! Aren't you Lil Tommy Q," a flight attendant gushed as she arrived to offer him a beverage.

"No." He wasn't in the mood to deal with fans. He was too busy being haunted by the girl he'd collided with in G Major. And the electricity he'd felt jolt through him as it happened. How could that have been Jude?

"Are you sure? You look so much like him!"

"No. And I'll take a vodka." God bless those mini bottles.

* * *

"Jude, are you in here?" Spied yelled through the door to the windowless studio C. Hearing no reply he entered the room. "What are you..." he trailed off when he saw she had cut a pair of lines of coke. They hadn't talked about what had happened two weeks ago. Jude acted like it had never happened. But it had. And what was worse, he'd liked it. He'd felt invincible. 

"Oh, hey Spied," she said to him with a sad attempt at a smile.

"Bad day, rock goddess?"

"Let's see. Woke up late. Saw the doctor, got another two months in this cast, that was a joy. Came to get a ride home from Sadie, who's too busy flirting with Kwest, got knocked on my ass by some jerk. I so hate being on crutches. Like I'm not klutzy enough to begin with. Then Darius calls me into his office. Tells me that Kwest and I are starting my next album in March and that I better clean up my act by then. Oh, did I mention I had a run in with Jamie? Yeah, my day is going awesome," she said sarcastically.

"Alright then, let's make it better." Spied leaned over and snorted one of the lines. Jude was surprised by his actions, but shook it off quickly and snorted the remaining line.

"You recording, or do you wanna get out of here?"

"Nope, let's get out of here," he replied. Extending a hand, he helped her stand back up and gave her the crutches. "So, where to Lady Harrison?"

"Actually, I gotta see a guy... about... something..." See a guy. About something. In other words, she needed to meet with her dealer.

* * *

_Sorry it's taken so long, I've had a hell of a time getting this to upload. A huge, huge, HUGE thanks to _A9L9O8N7E _for helping me out with that. Anyway. I know this chapter is... random... but think of it as a bridge from part one to part two of the story. And for those of you who have been waiting to see Jude and Tommy... I don't know, maybe be in the same country... you get your wish next chapter!_


	11. Pain and Nothing

_Eleven: Pain and Nothing_

_Given the choice between pain and nothing, I choose pain._

_William Faulkner_

* * *

_**End of March,**_

"We've given her almost a month. She hasn't written shit. And no offense, but your writing isn't going to cut it this time around. It's time to call in reinforcements."

Kwest stared at Darius, completely lost as to who 'reinforcements' might be.

"What have you been up to..." Kwest asked suspiciously.

"Does the name Thomas D'Aubigne mean anything to you?"

"No..." Then there was a spark of recognition. "No. NO. Darius, no. Jude is finally starting to do better. She's drinking less, SME only has to search for her once or twice a week now, and she's been writing. Not songs, but it's writing none the less. Why the hell are you going to call Tom Fucking Quincy." Darius raised his eyebrows at Kwest's reaction. He knew Kwest had become extremely protective of Jude, but he had no idea that it was to the point that he'd turn his back on his best friend for her.

"And here I thought you'd be eager to get back to working with T."

"You thought wrong. He's as dead to me as he is to Jude. Furthermore, no one even knows where the hell he is." Kwest's anger and rage was evident in the volume of his voice. He never yelled at anyone, and here he was, screaming in his boss's face.

"Calm down, Kwest. Sit back down. Do you remember how a few months ago, when Jude was still on crutches, some guy came barreling out of my office and accidentally knocked her down but didn't help her up?"

Kwest nodded mutely.

"Well, I happened to get a visit from Mr. D'Aubigne that afternoon. And we all know Mr. D'Aubigne has terrible manners..." He sat back and waited for Kwest to connect all of the dots.

"No. He was here. In Toronto. In G Major? And you didn't tell me? That's low even for you!" And it was true, Darius knew he should have told Kwest about the meeting, but then Kwest would have had time to refuse to collaborate with Tommy, and probably would have told Sadie who would have told Jude.

"Listen, I know Tommy's disappearing act was a shady thing to do. But you need to believe me when I tell you he had good reason to leave. He came back to give me his resignation. Instead, we came to a compromise about him working here on an as-needed basis."

"So I'm supposed to sit back and watch Tommy destroy Jude all over again," Kwest asked in disbelief.

"No. You're supposed to go pick him up from the airport. His flight arrives in an hour, the international terminal. Just pick him up, go get dinner with him, listen to everything he has to say before you judge him so harshly. You better get going. Oh, and have Sadie tell Jude she has a new producer arriving tomorrow morning and I would appreciate it if she refrained from pulling one of her disappearing acts."

Kwest didn't know what to do. Part of him wanted to kill Tommy for leaving, but the other part of him wanted to know what was so important that Darius was willing to forgive his lengthy absence. There was no use fighting it. It was that damn Quincy magnetism. He needed to know what had happened.

"Fine, I'll go. I'll listen. But if this isn't on the level, I'm not letting him near G Major."

"That works for me," Darius agreed, knowing Kwest would make the right decision.

Kwest left the extravagant office without another word and made his way to the reception desk. Sadie smiled happily at him as soon as she saw him coming.

"Hey! Listen, Spied and Jude are hanging out tonight, how about some you and me time..." She looked at him seductively. Kwest groaned and cursed Tommy for the millionth time.

"I'd love to, but I can't," he said, watching Sadie's happiness fall away. "I have to pick up Jude's new producer up at the airport and take him for dinner, Darius's orders."

"Oh. Jude has a new producer?"

"Sorta, it's gonna be an on and off kinda thing, I'll tell you more about it tomorrow. But can you tell Jude she needs to actually show up for work tomorrow? And mention the new producer part," he asked her.

"Yeah. Of course! But you owe me a night of just us. And who is the new guy? Jude'll want to know." Kwest felt panic rise in him. Sadie would kill him if she knew he was breaking a date for Tommy.

"Tell her it's a Mr. D'Aubigne, he's from somewhere in the States. I guess he and D go way back." It wasn't a lie... it just wasn't the truth.

"Wait, you mean that asshole who knocked Jude off her crutches and didn't even apologize?"

"Yup, that's the one." For the second time in as many minutes, Kwest found himself cursing Tommy. Way to make a lasting impression when you were supposed to be incognito, Tommy.

"Nice. Jude's gonna love this."

Kwest said nothing, choosing instead to give her a tender kiss before leaving.

* * *

Kwest stood in front of baggage carousel seven, waiting for Tommy. The marquee said that it was for a flight from Helena, Montana. What had Tommy been doing in Montana? Who did he know there... except... no, Tommy barely ever talked to Jimmy anymore. What would he be doing there? No, it was probably just a layover. His thoughts were interrupted by the voice he'd been dreading all evening. 

"Kwest, you came." Tommy stood in front of him. He looked exhausted, and there had to be at least a weeks worth of growth on his face... and Tommy hated not shaving. Neither man heard the whispers buzzing through the baggage claim... 'Is that Tommy Q?'... 'Oh my god I love him!'. Some people had begun to snap pictures of the illustrious Tom Quincy's homecoming.

Tommy flipped his sunglasses up on top of his face. "Kwest, it's me," he said, thinking his friend didn't recognize him. Before he even realized what he was doing, Kwest punched Tommy – a killer right hook that landed just below his eye. Not expecting the blow, Tommy was knocked to the floor.

"Quincy, you're a real ass," Kwest hissed at him.

"Good to see you too man," he replied, picking himself up off the ground. "Could this day suck any more? Whit has the flu so I got absolutely no sleep, then I had to leave her while she was still sick, come back to a place where I know I'm not wanted, and get punched in the face. By the way, nice hit," he muttered. Turning around, Tommy retrieved his luggage and the men made their way through the mob that had surrounded them once Tommy's presence was revealed.

"Oh, poor Whit had the flu and you had to leave your little skank behind while you come work with the girl who you said was 'The One'," Kwest snapped at him.

Hearing the words Whit and skank in the same sentence, Tommy snapped to attention. A look of bewilderment crossed his face before the realization hit, "D didn't tell you."

"No, he didn't tell me that you were shacking up with an American whore, but he did make me promise to listen to what you had to say. So speak fast, I backed out of a date with Sadie to come pick you up."

Instead of replying, Tommy dug out his wallet and handed it to Kwest. Kwest opened it, not really knowing what to expect. In addition to numerous credit and bank cards, there were two pictures in protective coverings. One was of Tommy and Jude working on a song, looking completely lost in each other. Confused as to why Tommy carried that picture around, Kwest turned his attention to the second photograph. It was a studio portrait of a beautiful little girl who looked to be around five years old.

"Nice, she had your kid five years ago so you finally decided to play house," Kwest said, still not getting it.

"Kwest, you must be spending to much time with SME, cause you're being a real moron. THAT is Whit. And she's not my kid, there are no Lil Tommy Q's running around to my knowledge. She's Jimmy's. Was Jimmy's. Did you know twins run in our family?" Tommy took the wallet and put it back in his pocket.

"Wait, 'was' Jimmy's? What the hell?" So Tommy had come from Helena after all.

"Look, can we finish discussing this somewhere else? I'm exhausted and hungry, and I just want to go to sleep. Speaking of which... I kinda need a place to stay tonight."

"Yeah man, sure. And of course you can crash at my place," Kwest said. He already felt bad for punching Tommy like that, and even worse for making assumptions.

"But Tommy," Tommy turned to look at him. "You make her cry, and I promise you that black eye will feel like nothing compared to what I'll do to you," Kwest threatened.

"Duly noted."

* * *

"And that's why I left. You know I've never been close to my family. I loved Jimmy, but we were just too different to ever be close. But this little girl, and she is an amazing little girl, I'm the only family she's got. Trust me, leaving Jude was the last thing I wanted to do. But to be honest, I'm glad she's moved on and got back together with Spiederman. Not my first choice for her, but he's probably a lot better choice than me," Tommy said with a heavy sigh. They were back at Kwest's apartment, and he'd finally finished telling Kwest the whole story of his disappearance. 

"So I get why you left, but why'd you stay gone. No phone calls, no emails? Come on T, even you aren't stupid enough to think Jude would be fine after you left," Kwest replied, choosing to ignore Tommy's assumptions about Spied and Jude. The tabloids were convinced they were a couple, and if they found out otherwise, Jude's erratic behavior would become suspicious.

"Honestly, I have no idea. It hurt like hell to do it, but I knew if I heard her voice, heard her asking me to come back for her, I'd do it without a second thought. But I need to be Whit's family. Losing her parents and sister has been hard, I don't want her to lose me too. And it's not fair to ask Jude to play mom to her."

"I get it man, I really do. But that should have been a decision for Jude to make."

Tommy said nothing because deep down, he knew Kwest was right.

* * *

The next morning came way to quickly. He was nervous as hell about seeing Jude, and about leaving Whit home with the Nanny. At one point, he sincerely considered just taking off for the airport and disappearing again. He knew that it was going to get ugly today. And that wasn't something he was looking forward to. All to soon he found himself standing in the familiar lobby of G Major. 

"She's waiting for you in studio A. I think SME's in there too," Darius said as he clapped Tommy on the back. "Don't worry, it'll be fine."

"She has absolutely no clue I'm coming, right," Tommy replied.

"Absolutely none. She does know that there's a Mr. D'Aubrigne from the States coming to work with her today."

"Nice. Thanks for putting my real last name out there D."

"I do my best. Did you get a place to stay squared away?"  
"Yeah, I'm just gonna keep my house up here for a while instead of selling. Listen D, I know you want this to work, but we both know Jude is not going to go along with this. And honestly, I'm not going to make her. I'm not going to waste my time here. I'll work with her when she's pissed, angry, not speaking to me, whatever. But the minute she asks me to leave, I'm leaving."

"I understand. But I don't think she'll ask you to leave. Anyway, why don't you go see our girl. She's made zero progress on the album and I want to see some results." Tommy knew a dismissal when he heard it.

Tommy could hear shouts of laughter coming from studio A as he approached. Pausing outside the door, he looked in. Wally was attempting to play the guitar, Jude was failing miserably at the drums, Spied was doing surprisingly well on bass, and Kyle was, well, it was supposed to be singing. They sounded terrible. No, terrible was way to generous. Had they forgotten the cardinal rule of being in a band– thou shalt not let the drummer sing.

He entered the booth unnoticed and continued to watch them. Well, mostly he was watching Jude. She seemed happy. Maybe he'd done the right thing after all. She looked so normal, except for the whole wearing sunglasses inside thing, but she probably picked that up from him. Jude suddenly started throwing drumsticks at Kyle, booing his horrible singing. Pretty soon the foursome were wrestling on the ground, and sure enough, Kyle's hands, Jude's ass. What was it with guys touching his girl's ass all the time? Without even thinking about it, Tommy pressed down the intercom,

"KYLE! HANDS!" He yelled, immediately shrinking into the shadows before he could be seen. All four teenagers froze, but only Spiederman looked into the booth. Tommy chuckled at the complete look of horror on his face.

"Dude, total Tommy deja vu," Kyle said before looking up and seeing Tommy. The smile instantly dropped from Jude's face at the mention of his name. She couldn't even stand to hear his name? That hurt. Oh shit, she was staring straight at him. Their eyes locked for what felt like an eternity, but Tommy knew logically was only seconds.

"I'll... I gotta...," she said before bolting out the door.

"What's dude's problem," Wally asked. Kyle kicked him and pointed to the booth. "Oh."

"Her name's Jude, not dude. I'm gonna go check on her." Spied ran after her. Tommy took a seat in a dark corner of the booth, deciding to just bide his time. But damn was it good to see her again.

* * *

_ ZOMG They are in the same building! Hooray! _

_I finally watched _18 pt. 2_. I'd been putting it off, because I didn't want to witness the Jommy trainwreck. Seriously, couldn't they have given us a couple of episodes of Jommy happiness before ripping them apart? And holy crap, Portia is a bitchy drunk! Overall, not as bad as I was expecting. But still sad :(_

_Oh, as always. Disclaimers apply._


	12. The Way You Left Me

_Twelve: The Way You Left Me_

_This is the way you left me,_

_I'm not pretending._

_No hope, no love, no glory,_

_No happy ending._

_This is the way that we love,_

_Like it's forever._

_We'll live the rest of our life,_

_But not together._

_-_Mika, _Happy Ending_

* * *

"Jude. Come on. I know you're in here," Spied said softly as he kicked in the stall doors of the women's bathroom. "Jude... tell me you haven't done anything stupid..." He found her in the last stall, looking miserable.

"No. Even if I wanted, no way to do anything stupid. God, Spied, why. Why now. Why is he here. Today was supposed to be a good day. I was getting a new producer. I wanted to... make music again. Or at least try, you know? See if it could still be okay without Tommy being there to help. Why does he still have this effect on me. Why is he even here?" She fell into his arms, crying.

"Hey, it'll be ok. Come on, Kwest will chase him out. We have to meet our new producer today, remember?" He used the hem of his shirt to dry her face off and gave her another hug. Spied held her close for a good five minutes while Jude continued to sob on his shoulder. He knew he shouldn't enjoy feeling her body pressed against his when it was Tommy she was crying over. But he knew that this was the closest he'd get to intimacy from her.

"Thanks Vincent, I don't know what I'd do without you," she finally said.

"First name usage, ouch!" he joked.

"You know you love it. Look, will you go make sure Tommy's gone, I'll be out in a minute."

"Yeah, anything for you," Spied paused on his way out the door, "Wanna feel platinum tonight?" It had become their code for the days that just sucked ass and they needed to escape. Spied was only using every other week or so, but he knew Jude was doing it a hell of a lot more. Tommy was back. Something told him they were both going to need it tonight.

"I dunno Spied... let's see how the day goes," she lied to him. All she wanted to do was get high, but she wasn't sure she wanted to do it with Spied anymore. She didn't want to see him get caught up in, well everything she was caught up in.

Spied gave her a knowing smile. When push came to shove, Jude never turned down a party these days. Although lately, she'd been trying to keep a much lower profile and partying less, and they were beginning to get back to how things used to be. But to be honest, he was really starting to understand why she'd lost herself in the whole underground scene. And days like today made him want... no, _need_ the drugs almost as much as she did.

"Listen, why don't you take a few minutes, get your game face on, and go record that new song we wrote the other night. I promise you, five minutes and he'll be gone – hell, Kwest and Darius probably already kicked his ass out," he told her. Jude nodded and he left her alone to collect herself.

Spied was surprised to find Tommy leaning against the door to the studio. He'd hoped that Tommy would have gotten the hint that Jude didn't want him around.

"Dude. I don't know why you picked today to storm back into Jude's life, but your timing sucks. She's got a new producer coming in a few minutes, she doesn't want to see you, can you just..." Spied fumed at Tommy.

"New producer. Huh. I'm a producer. And I'm in her studio..." Tommy said with an air of cockiness, waiting for Spied to put two and two together. He didn't know why he felt the need to put Spied in his place. Lie. He knew why. It was because Spied was in there comforting her, while he was the reason for her pain.

"No way. Darius wouldn't..."

"Darius did. Now it's time for you to get out of here so I can work with my artist."

"Like hell. I'm not going to leave you alone with her!" Spied yelled at Tommy. He continued to rage at the producer until Kwest came in several minutes later.

"What's going on here?" Kwest asked, even though he knew the answer.

"Make Tommy leave," Spiederman said angrily.

"Get this kid out of here," Tommy shot back.

Kwest rolled his eyes.

"Look, Spied, why don't you get Wally and Kyle and go rehearse in C. Darius said he's got a solo gig for you this week. Don't worry about Jude, I've got this." Spied glared at Kwest, but left anyway. Tommy gave Spied a triumphant look. "And you!" Kwest said as he turned his attention to Tommy. "You've been here five minutes and she's already mad at you?"

"No. Yes. I don't know man. I didn't even say anything to her," he said sheepishly.

Kwest groaned, "What did you do..."

"All I did was yell at Kyle to get his hands off her ass," Tommy said.

"So after nine months away, you didn't even say hello, how are you, I've missed you, I'm insanely in love with you... nothing like that. Just yelled at Kyle. Man. I wonder why she's mad. For someone who's supposed to be a ladies man, you know nothing about them."

Tommy was about to defend himself but quickly realized Kwest was right. He'd bedded countless women, but when it came to dating, he was a disaster. He was so used to the 'Quincy Charm' being enough to get what he wanted from girls. Jude was one of the first girls, hell probably the only, that saw beyond the charm to who he really was. And in this case, what he really was was a bastard.

Just when Tommy was about to ask Kwest for advice, he noticed Jude making her way towards them. She looked at him as though she'd never met him. Had he really become a stranger to Jude? Six months will do that to you. Especially when he'd dropped her cold turkey, like a bad habit, never looking back. Kwest was right, he was an idiot.

"What do you want Thomas." She said coldly. Kwest raised his eyebrows at that. He'd never heard anyone call Tommy by his full name – or at least live to tell the story of it.

"Don't call me Thomas. And I want to talk to you," Tommy said, doing his best to remain patient and calm. Secretly, he was thrilled she was even talking to him. Moreover, he was desperate for it to continue. He'd forgotten how much he needed her. How addicted to her voice he once was. How her mere presence made him feel invincible. Oh god, he needed her so much.

"I'm sorry Thomas, but I'm currently working with my producer, we need to finish my new single," she looked pointedly at Kwest, who started to back away, not wanting to get dragged into anything.

"Just give me five minutes Jude, I can explain." He could have played the 'I'm your producer now' card, but he knew better than to pull a power trip on Jude. She may have seemed collected but he knew how volatile she could be when provoked. Do the lyrics to _Skin_ ring a bell?

She looked at him sadly, and remarked: "It's always different shades of the same". With that, she slipped away to the studio, leaving Kwest and Tommy standing in the hall. Both men were haunted by her voice. It was a tone Tommy had never heard her use, and it chilled him to the bone. 'Always different shades of the same', what the hell was that supposed to mean, he wondered.

Kwest said nothing, but gestured towards the sound booth. Tommy could guess his intent.

"No, I better not man."

"Don't worry she won't know you're here." Confused, Tommy followed him into studio C. Once inside, he pressed himself into the shadows, not leaving the entranceway. Kwest leaned on the intercom, "Ready when you are." As Jude's voice filtered throught the speakers, Tommy couldn't help but inch towards her. Finally Kwest said, "Just come all the way in, trust me." Tommy stepped in front of the mixing board reluctantly, afraid to meet Jude's eyes. He was surprised to see her seated on a stool with her back to them.

"What is she..."

"It was one of the conditions of her coming back. She got to record things her way. Apparently this is her way." Kwest had been shocked when she said she was ready to record, like it was no big deal - she hadn't volunteered to record in a long, long time.

"Why."

"You know why, Tommy." She had let it slip to Kwest one night when she'd arrived at G Major, beyond drunk, that she couldn't bare to look into the sound room, knowing that Tommy wasn't there looking back at her.

He listened to the lyrics closely. He wasn't sure what to expect, but it hadn't been this, that was for sure. She just seemed so empty. The song wasn't crap, but it really wasn't good. It was just... OK.

Once she finished her song, after a few moments silence, her voice came over the mic, "Leave, Thomas." She never even turned around. She'd felt him. She could always feel him.

Without a single word, Tommy picked up his leather jacket and calmly walked out of the studio. Overall, it had gone better than he'd expected. She hadn't hit him. Although Kwest had covered that area quite well.

He was barely into the hall when he heard a loud shatter. It was a sound he recognized all to well. And it comforted him. It told him that somewhere, buried deep inside of her, the passionate and impulsive Jude he knew was alive and kicking.

Jude had thrown the stool through the glass separating the booth and the studio. He'd done the same thing many years ago during a fight with Chaz. Actually, it had been _the fight_ with Chaz. The one that had eventually resulted in his leaving Boyz Attack. Darius had almost killed him for that. Ultimately, his punishment had involved taco commercials, a memory he tried to keep repressed whenever possible. And if he wanted to keep it repressed he had better get out of G Major before Darius blamed him for this.

Moments after Tommy had made his escape, Darius stormed into the studio.

"What the hell is going on in here!" He yelled. In a few short seconds someone – and his money was on SME – had destroyed thousands of dollars of equipment. And there was going to be hell to pay.

"Uh, sorry D, it just sorta happened," Kwest offered lamely. Realizing that Jude and Kwest were the only people in the studio, a small smile appeared briefly on Darius's face.

"I see you met your new producer," he said.

"No."

"Yes. I've been giving you a hell of a lot of leeway lately. It's time you do something in return. Collaborate with Quincy. Don't have to like the guy. Don't have to talk to him. Hell, scream obscenities at him for all I care. But he will be working on this album."

"No," Jude said stubornly.

"Yes. And it's only on an as needed basis. As in, if I say you need him, he's here. The rest of the time, he's not."

"Nice. So pretty much, any given day, I show up, and he could be lurking there? That's bullshit Darius. I did my last album without him and it's selling great. I don't need him. Tell him to get the fuck out of here!"

"You need him if I say you need him! And I say you need him." Darius turned to Kwest, "Where is T? I thought he learned his lesson about throwing things in my studios, but apparently not."

"He left. And, uh, he was already gone when it happened. I'll give him a call if you want. I'm sure he'll be back soon," Kwest said.

"Don't bother. I take it you asked him to leave?" He asked Jude. She nodded her head, unsure of what to make of D's behavior. "Then he won't be back. At least for now."

"But –" Kwest tried to interrupt.

"Drop it Kwest. Be in my office in 15." He turned to leave, "And Jude. As glad as I am that you're finally showing some... passion, but can you refrain from destroying my studio next time."

* * *

Half an hour later Spied walked into the studio and found Jude leaning against a wall playing her guitar. The sound equipment was destroyed. Glass was everywhere. And Quincy was no where to be found. What he wouldn't give to have been there when things went down.

"I see things went well here," he said as he sat down next to her.

She ignored him and kept playing.

"So how long till he's back here, kicking my sorry ass out again?"

She shrugged her shoulders and gave a shake of her head to indicate she didn't know without stopping playing.

Unsure of what to do, and frankly confused as hell, Spied decided to wait it out with her. She wasn't up for talking about it yet, and he understood that. Not to mention, she was working on a new song. No lyrics, but the melody was beautiful. It was good to see her working on music that she actually had a hand in making, but he couldn't help but wish he could be the source of inspiration instead of Tommy Fucking Quincy.

After nearly an hour of uninterrupted strumming she abruptly set her guitar down in the middle of what he assumed would be the chorus.

"Does that offer still stand?" She asked.

"For tonight?"

"Yeah," I just need to... clear my head."

"You got it. Let's get out of here," he said as he helped her stand up. "By the way, way to ace Rock Star 101 – destroying a studio is way cooler than trashing a hotel room.**  
**

* * *

**The Second Visit:**

About five weeks after the first visit to G Major, Tommy got a call from Darius telling him that he was needed in the studio. And so once again, he found himself standing outside G Major, looking forward to and yet dreading seeing Jude.

To his surprise, the lobby of G Major was deserted. While it was only ten in the morning, he had at least expected to find Sadie at the reception desk.

He finally found Kwest in Studio A (which had been completely repaired since his last visit), talking on the phone to someone.

"Did you check that warehouse on Vine and Third?" Kwest asked the person on the other end of the phone. There was a pause before he continued, "Check there, then...". Kwest had turned around and realized that Tommy was there. "Uh, listen. I gotta go, give me a call if it doesn't turn up."

"Hey, Tommy, I didn't know you'd be here today," Kwest greeted him.

"Where is everyone? D called me and said I had to be here ASAP. So here I am," he replied.

"D and Portia are in a meeting. Sadie is running some errands. SME is out picking up some... equipment for me. Jamie is still taking a leave of absence. Mason isn't due till four, the newest Instant Star, Karma, will be in at two... Do I really need to run down all the techs and artists too?"

"No, I was just surprised. Why don't you call Carson Hill and have them excuse Jude so we can get working. And did you say that Jamie is on a leave of absence?"

"Right. No one told you," Kwest said hesitantly.

"Told me what?" Tommy asked as he took a seat next to Kwest.

"Patsy died. Jamie didn't take it very well," Kwest said bluntly.

"What? That's impossible. I saw her car out in the lot. Dead? Shit. What happened? How'd Jude take it?" Tommy felt horrible. One of Jude's best friends had died, and he hadn't even known about it. Or been there to comfort her. "Wait, I saw a tabloid article about how Jude was killed in a car crash..."

"Yeah. That's actually Jude's car now. Except it's got a dead battery right now. There was a bit of a mix up at the hospital. Night of her big birthday bash. Jude broke her leg, got banged up, but she's been doing pretty good since then. Jamie... he blames Jude. He almost attacked her in the hospital, Spied, Wally and Kyle had to actually drag him out of there. Haven't really seen much of him since then."

Tommy leaned back in his chair and tried to absorb all the information.

"That's rough man. Go call Carson Hill, get her over here so we can get to work – or I can get back to the States."

"Leave? So what, you're just going to walk out on her every time she tells you to leave?" Kwest couldn't believe that Tommy would give up on her so easily.

"If she doesn't want me here, well, I'm not going to leave Whit alone with a nanny in Montana while I deal with Diva Jude who doesn't even want me here. So, come on, call the school."

"Right, you don't know that either," Kwest said with a sigh, wondering why it fell on him to give Tommy all the bad news.  
"Know what..." Tommy asked suspiciously.

"Uh, Jude dropped out."  
"You mean she's finishing with a tutor."   
"No. She dropped out. Kyle and Wally had graduated last summer and Spied tested out of his final classes – for as many times as he uses 'dude' in a conversation, the kid is actually rather brilliant. You know how much she hated school. Does six percent in Math sound familiar? Without the boys, she didn't see the point," Kwest said cautiously. He didn't want to tell Tommy that the real reason was that she was too drunk, hung over, or high to go to school. Spied had tutored her some for the first semester, but once Patsy died, it was game over.  
"And you just let her?" Tommy said in disbelief.  
"She's eighteen Tommy, not a whole lot we can do!"

Tommy was about to scream at Kwest for letting Jude make such a stupid decision when Kwest's phone rang again.  
"Kyle, calm down... where... with who... I was afraid of that. Right, you know what to do. Yeah, see you in an hour," Kwest said.

"So what's that all about?"

"Trouble getting the equipment loaded. You know what happens when you send the three stooges to get stuff done. Anyway. We got an hour at the minimum before they get in here. I'd have you listen to Jude's new stuff but..."

"There's no new stuff?" Well, there was that damn song she'd been playing over and over and over again since Tommy's last visit. But she refused to lay down any vocals for it, so it seemed unlikely that she would work on it with Tommy.

"Nope. That girl hasn't written a word since you left. Hell, she didn't even speak for the first two weeks," Kwest stopped suddenly when he realized what he'd said.

"Two weeks. She didn't talk for two weeks," Tommy couldn't believe what he was hearing.  
"No. No, Tommy. She didn't speak for two weeks. She didn't eat for two weeks. She didn't even get out of her bed for two weeks."

"Why didn't anyone..."

"What, why didn't anyone tell you? Because it was your fault!"  
It was too early in the day and Tommy hadn't had enough caffeine to get into it with Kwest. For once, he was just going to take the high road.

"You're right Kwest. It is my fault," he said sincerely, "Wait, if Jude isn't in school, where is she?"

Kwest froze. He needed to think of something fast. "She's with SME, getting the equipment." It was only partly a lie. Kyle had just called, completely panicked, having found Jude and Spied (who's pants had gone missing) asleep and likely hungover at an unofficial after hours club Jude had been frequenting lately. At first he'd been glad that Spied was going out with her at night, but soon he appeared to be getting into trouble with her instead of keeping her out of it. It wasn't all the time, and Spied was still doing great in the studio. Apparently he was a prolific drunk and had written volumes of amazing material for their debut album. On the upside, Spied had also talked Jude into playing guitar on the album. The fact that she was working with SME on their album was likely the only reason Darius hadn't called Tommy back sooner.

"Kwest? You with me? I was asking how things were with you and Sadie," Tommy's voice brought him out of his thoughts.

"Yeah, sorry man, no, things with Sadie are great. Actually, I've been meaning to talk to you about that. Guy code and all. Are you ok with us dating?"

"Yeah. If you guys are happy, then that's all that matters. Besides, you know Jude has been the only girl for me these past few years." And it was true, Tommy really was happy for Kwest and Sadie. For some reason they seemed to make much more sense than him and Sadie had.

They sat in companionable silence for a few minutes before Kwest spoke again, "You remember that conversation we had at Jude's Sweet Sixteen?"

"Have you heard _Time to be Your 21_? How could I forget. And how did we not know she was eavesdropping?" Tommy replied.

"If things were different, do you think - "

"Kwest, I'm going to ask you as a friend, not to go there. Please," Tommy cut him off.  
"Right."

"So... what have you been working on lately?" Tommy asked, trying to divert the subject from him and Jude.

"Mostly Mason's debut album. I'm really not country, but it was him or Karma. And well, Karma is..." How did one describe Karma anyway?

"A slut who loves to make my sister look bad and can't keep her hands to herself when it comes to my boyfriend?" Sadie spoke up.

"Nice to see that jealous streak is still kicking, Sades. When'd you walk in," Tommy asked.

"Just a few seconds ago. I just wanted to ask Kwest if..." she stopped suddenly, unsure of how to phrase her question.

"Jude and SME are on there way back from picking up some equipment, they'll be here soon," Kwest told her, knowing she'd come to see if Kyle had called with the whereabouts of Jude. Kwest was constantly amazed at the maturity Kyle showed, especially when it came to dealing with a drunk Jude. He couldn't help but remember one of the first times they'd all gone out looking for Jude. Everyone had been scared as hell, but Kyle had remained calm, saying that if she was with Patsy she'd be fine – or in jail, which translated to fine. When they'd found her, she'd been drunk as hell (even though it was two in the afternoon) and Kyle had taken control of the situation. Later, Kwest had asked him where he'd learned to handling drunks so well, because it wasn't a skill one developed out of nowhere. Kyle had quietly admitted that his father was an alcoholic and he was regularly called to the bar to bring him home. He'd said that compared to a man who was six foot, two hundred pounds, Jude was a walk in the park. That was all he'd say on the subject, but it made Kwest see him in an entirely new light. From then on, Kyle had made himself the go-to guy for Jude related incidents. The thing that bothered him about Kyle was that he was almost positive the kid was living out of his car. Not that that was a bad thing, but he was acting like everything was fine. He'd found Kyle asleep in studio C on more than one occasion, and he'd seen him sleeping in his car in the G Major lot earlier in the week. He needed to fix that somehow.

"Hello? Kwest?" Sadie's voice brought him back to the present.

"Sorry," he said. "Anyway, Tom, want to take a listen to what Mason has laid down so far?" Tommy nodded, figuring that if Darius was willing to pay him to come all this way, he might as well do _something_.

* * *

Almost two hours later Jude and SME showed up, coffee in hand – but no equipment. Strange, Tommy thought. Seeing Jude, just being in the same building as her, made him feel more relaxed than he had been since, well for a long time. Not to mention that she looked amazing. She'd dyed her hair back to the light honey brown it had been on her album cover. She was far more recognizable than she had been during their lobby encounter. Although she still had that piercing. He'd have to ask her about that one day. Something told him that how Jude and SME had come to all get similar piercings was likely the result of one of their crazy band bonding days, which always made for a good story.

"Alright, why don't the four of you show me what you've been working on," he said. He hoped that having her band mates present might prevent a repeat of his last visit. The three boys looked at each other awkwardly when they heard this, but set up their instruments anyway. Jude plugged her guitar into the amp without ever acknowledging Tommy's presence.

On Kyle's count, they began to play.

Tommy waited and waited for Jude to come in with vocals – or even Spiederman. But several minutes later the song ended without a single word being sung. The song itself was amazing, and it meant that Jude had done something while he was gone. And Jude had spent every second of it looking at him. Not glaring, just looking. At least, he thought she was looking at him. Damn those sunglasses! Didn't she ever take them off?

"That song kills guys, I'm thinking it'll be Jude's next single," Tommy said into the mic. The boys appeared to be pleased but Jude gave no reaction. "Jude, do you have lyrics yet?" She continued to just stare at him (or at least he thought she was staring). Deep breaths Tommy, he reminded himself. Don't yell, don't get pissed. He waited a full minute for her response, but it didn't come.

"Alright, well, how about you write some," he suggested. Still no response. "Fine. There is paper and pens in there already, the four of you aren't leaving till you come up with something. I'll be back in an hour or so." The boys jaws dropped when they saw him lock the door and walk away.

"Come on Kwest, I need caffeine," he said from the hallway.

"Are you seriously going to lock them in there?" Kwest asked.

"Yep. How long have they been playing that song. It was technically perfect. You never play something perfectly the first time, hell the first thirty times. Which means they've been playing it for a while. Which means Jude is putting off writing the lyrics for it down. Which means she's been thinking it to death. Twenty bucks says that she'll write out a single copy of the lyrics with no edits. I know Jude, it's already in her head. She's being stubborn," Tommy said confindently.

"So why are you locking SME in there too?" Kwest asked.

"Because, I know those boys. There is one thing that motivates them. Food. They'll get hungry eventually and bug Jude until she puts the lyrics down. Are we going for coffee or no?"

"Yeah, sure," Kwest replied reluctantly.

* * *

When they returned an hour later, there was a copy of the lyrics resting on the sound board (written in what Kwest recognized as Kyle's handwriting). Wally had probably picked the lock and gotten them out. And Spied had probably bemoaned his hangover and need for food until everyone had gone crazy.

Tommy read over the lyrics. Jude had written them, but it wasn't her writing. Funny how he could still recognize her work without any identifying features. "You owe me twenty bucks Kwest."

"How about I just owe you?" Kwest said.

"Find them and we'll call it even," Tommy replied. This was progress. Jude had written a song. And it was an amazing song. Darius was right. Seeing him had been enough to bring back that spark. It was about time she wrote her Fuck You Tom Quincy song.

Kwest pulled out his phone and called Kyle, who had somehow become speed dial three – with one for voicemail, and two for Sadie.

"So, it's Wally who has been picking the lock on the liquor cabinet," Kwest said when Kyle picked up.

"Well, he learned from the best," Kyle said laughing.

"Yeah, remind me to send him a bill. Anyway. Where did you four jailbirds run off to? T wants to lay the vocals down."  
"I'll give you two guesses, but you'll only need one."

"Does Spied ever think about anything but his stomach," Kwest asked.

"Yeah. Jude. Oh, crap. Am I on speaker?" Kyle said hurriedly.

"No, it's cool man. Already knew that. Did Jude get anything?" Kwests unspoken question was 'when was the last time anyone saw her eat'.

"Yeah, shoveling down an omelet as we speak. Tell him we'll be back in half an hour."

"Thanks man. We'll see you soon," he said as he hung up the phone.

"So?" Tommy demanded.

"Chill. They're getting some food. They'll be here in half an hour. Let's set the board up."

"Yeah. Ok," Tommy said as he started to flip switches and turn dials to the appropriate positions.

"So what do you do out in Montana?" Kwest asked.

"Besides raise an extremely active yet emotionally scarred five year old? Cause that's pretty much full time right there," Tommy laughed.

"Yeah, but what do you do. You know, do you get out much?"

"Tons," Tommy deadpanned.

"Really," Kwest said, taken by surprise. He figured Tommy to be more for the 'stay at home and pine for my lost love' type. Well, that or get drunk and bring home loose women, but he wouldn't do that with a kid around... would he?

"Yeah. Mondays and Wednesdays are ballet. Tuesdays at the park. Alternating Thursdays I host the play group – don't you dare tell a soul about that. Fridays are swim lessons. Saturdays we go to the movies or a museum or something. Some weekends we fly out to California so she can see her aunt."

"Well aren't you just Mr. Mom." Kwest was picturing Tommy hosting a play group, and no matter how he imagined it, it was too hilarious.

"Someone has to be."

"Don't you have a nanny?"

"Yeah."

"So why doesn't she do all that stuff with Whit?"

"Well, she's there mostly for the mornings when I'm still drunk from the night before," Tommy said seriously.

"And how often is that?"

"Not often, but still too much. Plus, she's there for the mornings period. You know me, I don't do 'mornings'. And Whit is up with the sun. Not to mention for the times when Darius decides that Jude needs motivating."

"So you're really doing it," Kwest asked.

"Doing what," Tommy looked up from the laptop he'd booted up.

"Raising a kid."

"Oh. That. Yeah, I guess. Just trying to do what's best for her. It's the least I can do."

"Why didn't you bring her back here? I mean, what's in Montana," Kwest wondered.

"Her family. Sundays we take them flowers."

"Oh." After a few minutes of silence, Kwest spoke again. "I still don't get it. Why not bring her here. Toronto would be great for her."

"She lost her parents. Then spent three months waiting for her twin sister to wake up. She has a lot of nightmares about it. The doctors think it's best to keep her where things are familiar. Maybe in a few years," Tommy answered in a tone that said he really didn't want to talk about it.

After another long pause Kwest said, "Tommy, you know we need you here, right? Not just me. Jude does to." Before Tommy could reply, Jude, Wally, Spied, and a beleaguered looking Kyle burst in.

"Jude does what," Wally asked.

"Uh, need to lay these vocals down," Kwest lied. He seemed to be doing a lot of that lately.

Jude said nothing, but went into the studio without a fuss. Tommy looked at the boys of SME, "Don't you have your own album to work on?" Taking the hint, they began to leave.

"Wait, Kyle. I need to talk to you for a minute," Kwest said. Kyle nodded and grabbed a chair.

"Why does he get to stay?" Spied whined.

"I'm teaching him to run the sound board so he can engineer for you guys and be able to get a job and feed a family when you guys are old forgotten former rock stars," Kwest said. It was part true. Kwest was teaching Kyle to run the board. Since he graduated, Kyle had begun hanging out more and more at G Major, even when Wally and Spied weren't around. Eventually, Kwest realized it was because he didn't want to be at home, which had led to the realization that he didn't have a home to go to anymore. So he'd taken him on as an apprentice. Surprisingly, the kid was pretty good at it.

"Whatever. Let's go Spied," Wally said. Spied rolled his eyes but left.

* * *

Kyle sat quietly, waiting for Jude to start singing. He knew that Kwest didn't need help with the board since Quincy was there. Kwest probably wanted to ta\lk to him about Spied. And where they'd found Spied and Jude that morning. He hated watching two of his best friends slowly ruining their lives. Talking to Jude about it was pointless. She'd just ignore him or walk away. Talking to Spied about Jude was like talking to a wall. Spied seemed to think Jude could do no wrong.

They both thought that no one knew what was going on. Like it was easy to miss that they reeked of alcohol or couldn't walk straight or had slurred speech. Yeah right, he could pick out a drunk from 100 meters away. Not to mention that he took away whatever drugs Jude stashed in her purse and pockets whenever he found her. Threw it down to the sewer, poured out whatever bottles there were, she was none the wiser.

He'd found Spied asleep at their rehearsal space not too long after Tommy's last visit – not the one where he knocked Jude over, how had no one else realized it was Tommy? Actually passed out was more accurate. There had been a blank cd on the floor not too far from where Spied lay. He'd picked it up, because he seemed to be the only one that ever cleaned that place, and saw tell tale white powder remaining on it. Jude was no where to be found, so he'd figured out pretty quick that whatever Jude was into, Spied was into as well.

Things were not good.

He couldn't remember the last time they were good. His dad had been getting harder and harder to deal with over the last five years. When his mom left, his dad just gave up – gave in to the bottle. And when his dad was drunk... things got dicey. It wasn't that he would hit him much, at least not since he'd learned how to punch back, it was more the things he would say. About he was a waste of space, a screw up, a loser who should be dead. All the things a parent should never say to his child, his dad said to him on an almost daily basis.

Things with his dad had come to a boiling point a few weeks after Quincy's mysterious disappearance. He'd been out on the porch kissing his boyfriend, Eli, good night after their date when his dad had caught them. It was the only time in recent memory that he'd actually been afraid for his life. He'd told Eli to take off and managed to get his father back in the house without major incident. But once inside, all bets were off. Homophobia, drunkenness and walking in on your son making out with another boy was not a good combination.

When all was said and done, he'd lost a tooth, split his lip, and broken his nose. His dad hadn't been in much better shape, but he'd had the wherewithal to tell him that he was no son of his. And that he wouldn't have a gay son under his roof. Except, he'd used much harsher language. He'd left that night and only gone back once, when his dad was at work, to get his stuff.

For the most part he was living at the rehearsal space, which luckily had a working shower. On the nights he found someone was already there, he'd sleep in his Explorer, or in G Major on a couple of occasions. If Canada only knew the truth about Kyle Foster: a homeless gay teenage rock star. Not exactly a media friendly image. The worst part was that Eli had dumped him the next day. Said he couldn't be with someone who's family didn't support their sexuality. He didn't blame Eli at all, no one deserved the drama – or the slurs that his dad had yelled at them. But Eli had been his first 'real' boyfriend and getting dumped was not fun. Especially when you don't have anyone to talk to about it. When Wally and Spied asked what happened to his face, he'd lied and told them he got in a fight with a guy at a club over some girl. He could have told them the truth. He was pretty sure that they'd be okay with it. After all, they'd sat through _Brokeback Mountain_ at Jude's request without freaking out about the gay relationship. No, his reasons for not telling them were purely selfish. He was still getting used to it himself. It hadn't been until a year or so ago that he'd started going to gay bars and casually dating guys.

He needed to find somewhere to sleep tonight. Wally had mentioned bringing a date to the rehearsal space tonight. Mason's album was due pretty soon, maybe Kwest would be pulling an all-nighter. If not, looked like it'd be another long night in his backseat.

Oh, crap. Tommy and Jude are fighting. Something about how Jude is flat and Tommy is a perfectionist. Yeah, they'd had this argument a hundred times before. And the answer was Jude was flat because that coffee she drank earlier was more whiskey than coffee. And Tommy was a perfectionist because that's how things needed to be done.

Don't tell him to leave Jude, come on!

Kwest had told him the whole story behind why Tommy left and his agreement with Darius. At first he'd thought Darius had lost it, agreeing to have Tommy work with Jude once a month, and telling Jude she had to write her own stuff? There was no way they'd ever get anything done. But that first visit with Tommy had been the push Jude needed to get back into the swing of things. Of course, she said she was doing it to prove that she didn't need Tommy to make good music. She just didn't realize that Tommy was still the reason she made good music.

"Hey Kyle, can I ask you something?" Kwest's voice interrupted his thoughts.

"She's flat, Quincy's being a perfectionist," he said. Tommy rolled his eyes and Kwest had a 'told you so' look on his face.

"Beyond that, where are you staying these days?"

Shit. How'd Kwest know. That didn't matter. Should he lie, or come clean. Come clean. He hated lying.

"The rehearsal space some, wherever else, you know," he said as nonchalantly as possible. No one had cared that Patsy lived out of his car, so it shouldn't be a big deal if he was doing it too, right?

"T's looking for someone to crash at his place since he's out of town so much. You interested?"

He looked at Tommy in disbelief, "You want me to stay at your house?"

"You'd be doing me a favor. Kwest says you've got a good head on your shoulders, and that you've been looking out for Jude a lot. I'm only here a few days every month or so, if that," Tommy replied. "She's still flat. Anyway, I know what it's like to have no where to go."

"I have plenty of places to go," he said defensively.

"Yeah, I know. But like I said, I'm barely there, and I don't want people to know that it's just sitting empty – crazy fans and all that. Damnit Jude, sing it like you mean it!" Tommy yelled the last part through the intercom.

Bad move Tommy. She's less than sober, and she's singing what Spied and Wally call the 'Fuck You Little Tommy Q' song. Hopefully this time she wouldn't throw her stool through the glass.

"Sing it like I mean it? FUCK YOU. Get the hell out, Thomas," she screamed.

Told you it was a bad move Tommy, he thought. Tommy looked over at him, "So, you gonna help me out or what?"

"Yeah, sounds good." What am I getting myself into, he wondered.

"Alright then, Kwest is it cool if I steal him for a while to get him set up over there?" Tommy had his jacket on and was already halfway out the door.

"Yeah, that's cool. I'll call you later if I need help with Mason's album, Kyle. And I'll email you the first mix of this, T," Kwest replied.

"Sorry I'm not staying longer, give me a call later in the week," Tommy yelled over his shoulder.

"Later Tommy," Kwest called out.

"I hate you Thomas," Jude added from beside Kwest. Kyle rolled his eyes. No matter what she said or did, Jude Harrison did not hate Tom Quincy. They were practically made for each other. He needed to find a way to make things right with them. If for no reason other than the possibility of Jude starting to play gigs again – and he needed the money.

* * *

_Wow. Long chapter! Like a three in one! It seems like it's taken forever to get this up. I spent the past two days in the ER, so I didn't post it like I'd intended. And now, I'm not so sure if it's coherent and logical - it's six a.m. here (and I have to be at work at ten). So, if things just don't make sense, let me know, and I'll try to fix it. I thought about using lyrics for the sons Jude has been working on, but nothing felt right. Anyway. I know there still wasn't enough Jommy, but, next chapter (whcihw as originally part of this one) there is a lengthy Jommy scene. Without fighing! Well, mostly. Qnyway. I dont know where the whole Spied and Kyle have major roles came from. Or why suddenly Kyle is gay and living out of his Explorer. I guess it just seemed to flow. Thoughts or opinions? P.S. Loved this most recent episode where Kyle says he wants to be a Geologist, ad Wally says he's in it for the girls! Love them. Ok. Rambling now. I'll get the next chapter up when I can, but this coming week is going to be pretty crazy for me._


	13. You've Got Everyone Convinced

_Thirteen: You've Got Everyone Convinced_

_You've got everyone convinced that you're alright,_

_No one else is quite as vulnerable._

So Beautiful,_ Dashboard Confessional_

* * *

_**After The Third Visit**_

Jude woke up in a vaguely familiar living room. She'd been here before, but not for a long time. The large couch was far more comfortable then the floors she was used to waking up on.

"Sleeping beauty awakes," said a voice from behind her. She started to sit up and look around to see who it was, but the pounding headache she had made her change her mind. "Little hungover are we?" it asked her in a teasing manner.

"Shove it. Where am I."  
"About that..." She finally placed the voice.

"Kyle?"

"Yeah, and here, take this," he said, placing a glass of water and painkillers on the coffee table. She did as she was told while she continued to take in her surroundings. She'd been here before, she was sure of it. But it had been decorated differently then.

"So I'm where exactly?" she questioned him again.

"Uh. Quincy's living room."

"Are you high?"

"No. But I have a feeling that you are. Or were."

"Whatever. I'm so out of here. The last thing I need is a Quincy encounter. And it was drunk, not high. Thus the hangover." She tried to stand up but the pounding headache had yet to disappear and she was forced back to the couch.

"He's not here, if that's what you're worried about," Kyle said as he took a seat next to her. She gave him a funny look.

"If he's not here, why are we?"

Kyle sighed, trying to decide if he should tell her the truth, or rather how much of it. Damn his inability to lie about the big stuff. "I live here. Quincy needed someone to watch the place when he's not around." There, that was good. It was the truth, he just left the 'and my dad kicked me out ages ago' part. Jude gave him another look, and he knew that if she was fully with it, she probably would have asked many more questions. Questions he did not want to answer. "And since he never came back last night, I'm assuming you kicked him out of the studio again. What happened. Come on, tell Doctor Kyle all about it."

"He was being an ass." Kyle rolled his eyes at this.

"Quincy has always been an ass. You're going to have to come up with better than that."

"I didn't appreciate how critical of the chorus he was being."

"That wasn't being critical. He said you could do better, and we both know it's the truth." Jude gave him a look that said she really didn't care about the semantics of the argument. "Jude, you know why Darius brought him in. You know your music has always been better with him around. Hell, this summer you didn't even touch your guitar!"

"So."

"He's trying. Hard. And sacrificing a lot to come do this. Are you really going to hate him forever? Hell, have you even considered that he had a valid reason to leave in the first place?"

Jude said nothing and avoided his gaze. A few minutes later she blurted out, "Wait, why did you say you're staying here?" Kyle gave her a look that showed his annoyance at her changing the subject.

"Because he needs someone to watch the place while he's gone," he said.

"He's worried someone's going to break in while he's out partying at night?" she said with a slight sneer.

"Jude, when was the last time you saw him in the tabloids. Oh, that's right, almost a year. Well, except for the pictures of Kwest decking him at the airport." Jude looked at him, waiting for further explanation. "Alright, since apparently you're too hungover to put it together, I'll lay it out for you all nice and neat. I live at his house, plus he's not in the tabloids, plus the picture of Kwest punching him in the airport. For fucks sake Jude, he doesn't live in Toronto anymore."

"But he's always at the studio," she protested.

"No Jude, you're never at the studio, or you're too damn messed up to notice it. He shows up once a month. And that's it. If you would actually talk to him instead of taking every substance you came across, you might have noticed."

"But he always knows what I've been working on. And he's heard all the SME tracks."

"We live in the digital age, Jude. Kwest and I send MP3s."

"Wait, you send them?"

"Yeah, again things you've been too coked up to notice. I'm working as Kwest's apprentice. Darius hired me as a sound engineer," he said harshly. How had she become that oblivious to everything? Moreover, how had everyone let her get this far gone. He felt as though it was his fault. He couldn't even count the number of times he'd retrieved her from some dingy location and done nothing beyond bringing her home. Jude needed help. Real help. Before she kills her career. But he knew if he brought it up to anyone else, the topic would quickly be changed. It seemed everyone was just as much in denial as Jude was about her problems.

"So where does he go?"

"I don't know. All I know is he shows up, works with you until you get pissed and tell him to leave, then drives straight to the airport and goes away until Darius tells him to come back." While he knew more details than that, it wasn't his story to tell.

"Oh," she said quietly.

"Yeah. So, are you ready to tell me the real reason why you asked him to leave today?"

"If you tell me why you live here." He paused for a moment at her request, unsure of what to do.

"Fine. My dad kicked me out at the start of the summer. Since you haven't been touring or playing shows, I've had no income and no way to pay rent. So Kwest hooked me up with this. Your turn." It still wasn't the whole truth, but it was enough. He knew he needed to get at the real reason why she had kicked Tommy out that afternoon, which he was almost positive was directly related to having Kwest show up with a passed out Jude. Kwest hadn't wanted to upset Sadie by bringing her home after he found her in Studio D at G Major so he'd brought her to him.

"He got too close," Jude stated after a long pause. Kyle looked at her long and hard, trying to decipher the hidden meaning of her vague statement. He replayed the moments before she told him to leave in his head again. Tommy had stood behind her and reached around her to manipulate her fingers into what he viewed as a better position. As soon as Tommy put his hand on hers, Jude had dropped the guitar as though it was on fire and order him to get out.

"I just wanted him to go back into the booth, I didn't mean for him to leave," she said softly.

"It's ok, he'll be back in a month or so."

"Why."

"Because producing you is his job. And he can't stay away. He needs you in his life, just like you need him."

"I don't need him. I don't need anyone."

"Jude, everyone needs someone. And everyone knows Tommy is your someone. So tell me, exactly how directly related is Tommy leaving and your passing out drunk in studio D." She said nothing so he continued. "I'm not going to give you the whole speech about how your ways of coping are going to get you killed, I know Sadie gives you that one on a daily basis. But she's right. Whatever demons you're trying to chase away, do it with your music not with drugs. That's why you need Tommy. There's no one better to help you get things out. He deserves a second chance, and so do you. You both need it."

Jude said nothing, but Kyle could tell she was giving some type of thought to what he'd said. All he could do now was wait and see what happened next month. And try to keep Jude out of trouble until them.

_**The Fourth Visit**_

Tommy leaned against the alley wall and let out a loud sigh. Something had changed with Jude since his last trip. If today was any indication, they seemed to slowly be putting things back together. They weren't friendly or anything, but he'd been there five days this time. Five whole days of working with her. Of being close to her – but never touching her. He'd learned his lesson last time. And she hadn't even screamed at him to leave. Although she had screamed at him on more than one occasion. He wanted to be a part of her life again, and he was going to take it as slow as she needed.

He still couldn't figure out why Darius was putting up with her. Knowing Darius it had to do with money, he had her doing all sorts of publicity crap which profited Darius. But it was for G Major or Instant Star, even for SME. Never for her, and she never sang in public. And according to Kwest, the only time she did sing was when he was there.

Four months, and they'd only finished two songs. It didn't take long for him to figure out that Jude did almost no work when he was gone. Kwest had been emailing him a few tracks she'd laid down with SME – as second guitar. Never once did she sing on them. But they were the essentially the 'Fuck You Tom Quincy' songs he'd been expecting on her last album. Except they were coming from Spied. SME's second album seemed to be shaping up as the story of a guy watching the girl he loved get hurt by someone else. The song currently cued up on his MP3 player was a strong candidate for the first single.

The song had got him thinking. Something about Jude and Spied didn't add up. It was too one way. Yeah, Spied seemed to worship Jude, but so did Wally and Kyle. The only time they ever acted like a couple was when reporters were around, and even then, it was distant. To him, they seemed more like siblings than lovers. No, they could never be lovers, not in his eyes. He was the only one who should fulfill that role in Jude's life. But why all the secrets?

There was something going down at G Major. Something major. Something about Jude. And they were keeping it from him. He made a mental note to have a chat with D about needing to know everything that was going on with his girl when he wasn't there. Fuck. His girl. She wasn't his girl anymore.

No. But she would be one day.

God he needed a cigarette right now. He was about to pull one out before remembering that someone might come out to the alley. Twenty-five and he was still sneaking around about it. Reaching instead for the bag of Twizzlers he had shoved in his pocket earlier, Tommy heard the door to the alley open.

"Those'll kill you you know." Oh God, it was Jude. She was talking to him. Willingly. About something that wasn't music related.

He took off his headphones before replying, "What, licorice?"

"No. The cigarette you came out here to smoke." How the hell did she know about that.

"I don't smoke, Jude. You know that." Yeah, deny it all Quincy, now that's a good plan, he thought to himself. Jude rolled her eyes at him and took a few steps towards him. She stopped just arms length away from him. He wanted to touch her so badly, to pull her close and never let her go. No, that was a bad idea, put your hands behind your back Quincy and you might get out alive. "What are you doing out here any way?"

"Same thing as you. Frustrated with the bridge, needed some air." She suddenly stepped so close that they were almost touching. He inhaled sharply, too mesmerized to realize what she was doing before it was too late. She'd reached into his jacket pocket and snatched out the crumpled pack of cigarettes. Shit. Now what did he do.

"You know, I've got a lighter in my jeans, if you wanna grab that too," he joked, hoping his attempt alleviate the thick tension that ran between them wouldn't set her off again.

"Thanks, but I got my own." She pulled out a familiar looking lighter. His lighter. His silver, engraved, expensive as hell lighter. The one he thought he'd lost the night they recorded White Lines.

"That's mine."

"Huh. So that's why Quincy is engraved on it. I'd been wondering about that," she smirked at him. Flipping it open, she used the flame to light one of his cigarettes.

Smoking. Jude Harrison, champion of the Lung Cancer Society was smoking. And she was using his cigarettes, his lighter to do it! She took a long drag of it before pulling out a second one, lighting it and extending it to him. What the hell was she doing. She was talking with him, trying to interact but something about her actions and words seemed strange.

"Take it. You're obnoxious to deal with when you need a nicotine fix," she said knowingly. She was right. They both knew it. Wait. Where had his lighter gone.

"You going to give my lighter back?" he asked.

"What lighter," she replied innocently. God, he missed this. Them, talking. Interacting. Even if i was completely screwed up. Who knows how long it would last, or when it would happen again, or why it was happening now, he was going to enjoy every second of it. Was he seriously smoking in the back alley with Jude? Yes. Yes he was. And it was fucking awesome.

"Fine, keep it. Where did you find it anyway, I thought I lost it that night we recorded White Lines," he finally asked her.

"Find it? Oh, in your jacket pocket when I was stealing a cigarette while you were delivering the master to D that night." His jaw dropped.

"So it was you that was stealing my cigarettes. I figured it was Kwest, or maybe one of SME. Hell I'd even suspect Sadie before you, because god knows she had a tendency to go through my pockets looking for girls numbers. But never would I have guessed it was you." She just shrugged her shoulders at him.

"For how long."

"Since I turned 16." You little rebel, he thought to himself.

"When did you figure it out... how?" He'd been so careful to hide it, especially after she told him how much she hated smokers.

"Remember when we first met? You picked me up from school in the Viper and took me to the pier?" He just nodded dumbly, that trip had landed them in the tabloids and him on Georgia's hit list. "Well it was then."

"So... two days after we met, you knew I smoked and used that knowledge to pull guilt trips on me about how much you hated smokers? I'd quit for months at a time when you did that!" He wanted to be mad at her, but he couldn't. It was too petty, and they were finally talking. "What gave me away?"

"Two things. One, when you don't want someone to know you smoke, you don't leave empty packs on the floor of your precious Viper."

"It could have been someone elses!" he protested lamely. She rolled her eyes.

"Right. Like you let people leave trash in your car. You barely even let people ride in your car. Oh, and the second way I knew? When you leaned over to show me some cords – you know, the picture seen 'round Canada – I could smell it on you." Damn. She had him.

"So you said you've been doing it since you were 16, why'd you start." He had his suspicions, and he wasn't sure if he wanted them confirmed or not.

"You gave me your jacket at my party, ripped my heart out – or what was left of it after Hurricane Shay – you left a pack in there, I figured my life couldn't suck anymore, so I might as well give it a try. And it stuck," she shrugged and tossed the butt of her cigarette to the ground.

"Look, Jude, I don't want to sound like a hypocrite here, but smoking, it's not good for your voice. Really, don't do it."

"Your concern is duly noted, but unnecessary. I don't think a cigarette every few months is going to kill my singing career. But you're one to talk. You've gone through two packs this trip alone, you're going to kill your voice. And we both know you still want that solo album despite what you tell D." She had him there, he was desperate for that solo album. The fact that he turned out to be rather prolific when drunk seemed to be working in his favor seeing as material for an album was quickly piling up. Wait, was she saying she was worried about him? Hold on, something wasn't adding up still.

"Did you say you only smoke every month or so?" She nodded. "Then who the fuck has been stealing my cigarettes all these years! I wasn't talking one a month! I was talking a couple a day!"

"Spied," she admitted. "Smokes like a chimney."

"How do you know?"

"Who do you think I've been stealing them from while you've been gone?" She didn't need to add that she knew Spied smoked like a chimney because he had a tendency to smoke when they got high.

He was about to take a chance and ask her to dinner when his phone rang. It was Amanda. She had come for a visit when he was summoned by Darius and offered to stay with Whit while he was gone. Shit. He needed to take this, what if something happened to Whit...

"Look, Jude..."

"Save it, I'm gone." She paused at the door long enough to hear him answer the call.

"Amanda, stop crying. What's wrong. Alright. It's ok, it'll all be ok, no, no I'm not busy here. I'll get the first flight out..."

Nice Quincy, good to know that your flavor of the month is more important than working, Jude thought as she slammed the door behind her. Where was Spied. Studio B... C? No, B. She had to get out of there fast. And kick Kyle's ass for making her almost believe in Quincy again.

Opening the door to studio B she saw SME was laying down a track. It was sounding good, but she needed to get out of there. And fast. Ignoring Kwest's protests, she hit the intercom,

"Spied." That was all she had to say. He looked up at her and saw the tears falling down her face. Damn Quincy, what did he do this time. Something told Spied that he was going to have one hell of a hangover tomorrow.

"Spied! You're in the middle of a recording session!" Kwest argued.

"Sorry dudes, gotta blaze." He took off with Jude before anyone could stop them.

No sooner had they left, Tommy came flying through the door with a look of panic on his face, "Kwest... I..." Kwest's fist collided with Tommy's jaw. Tommy stumbled back a few steps. "What the hell was that for!"

"Whatever you did to Jude."

"I didn't do anything to Jude. We were actually having a conversation..."

"Then why did she just drag Spied out of a recording session and take off crying?" Kwest interrupted.

"I didn't do anything Kwest. I swear. We were talking, it was great, then I got a call from Amanda... oh... shit," he said as he realized the door to the alley had slammed shut after he'd told Amanda he'd be on the first flight back.

"Oh shit is not a good thing to be saying right now, Quincy," Kwest growled.

"Look, Amanda called, Jimmy's wife's sister remember? She's staying with Whit since she was there when D called me up here. Anyway, Whit fell out of a tree, she broke her arm again, and Whit won't calm down about having to go to the hospital, and Amanda is a little freaked out... and I think Jude overheard part of my conversation with Amanda. And what the hell did you punch me for!"

"Jude in tears? Come on T, we all know you're the only one who could be responsible for that. And I told you, you make her cry, you pay the price. And don't be such a girl about it."

"Yeah. I remember the airport. I think Portia has multiple pictures of it framed in her office. But look, I have to go. You know why."

"I'm not cleaning up your mess. You need to come clean with Jude. She needs to know that Amanda is your sister-in-law and that you have custody of Whit and that that is why you aren't here most of the month. You know Jude, she probably thinks that you are with Amanda and picked her over Jude's album. And you know how Jude feels about her music."

"I know, I'm going to tell her. I promise. Tell D I had to go." Tommy was already in the hall when he turned back to Kwest, "keep an eye on my girl, I'm worried about her." He was halfway to the airport before he realized what he'd said. But it was true. No matter what happened, he always saw Jude as his girl. His.

* * *

AN: Sorry for the long wait! I'm in the middle of the week before exams, plus dealing with a lot of health issues, so sadly I haven't been able to write as much as I'd like. I promised you more Jommy interaction and there will be plenty more in the next chapter, which was originally part of this chapter, but I couldn't get it right, so I decided to put up the part I did have instead of making you wait. 


	14. And When it All Goes to Hell

_Fourteen: And When It All Goes To Hell_

_And when it all goes to hell,  
Will you be able to tell me  
Sorry with a straight face_

The Patron Saint of Liars and Fakes, Fall Out Boy

* * *

AN: This chapter contains a briefly graphic scene near the beginning of the chapter. If this type of material may upset you, please skip the section in italics 

Three trips later, Tommy found himself alone (by some miracle) at G Major with Jude. Unfortunately, she was still pissed off at him. She had spent as little time possible around him, especially on the days when she arrived disheveled and red eyed, and didn't speak to him unless absolutely necessary – and even then, she kept it brief. His only hope was the fact that she hadn't asked him to leave. No, instead when she got angry she'd just disappear on him, sometimes for an entire day. It was because of that damn disappearing act that they were still there at four in the morning. They hadn't gotten anything done all day and he wasn't about to let her off easy like he had before. She needed to start cooperating with him. They were good together, the stuff they'd managed to put together so far was some of her best ever. But she was fighting him every step of the way. Gone was that connection they'd briefly rekindled in the alley.

Lately, he could tell something had changed. Her red eyed mornings became more frequent (after he banned sunglasses from the studio), she'd come back from the bathroom with a glazed look on her face, and she'd lost even more weight off her already too skinny frame. Most mornings she was literally dragged in by SME or Kwest. Of course to everyone else at G Major, this had become typical Jude behavior. Meanwhile Tommy was left wondering what was going on.

No, she'd definitely been getting worse since the whole debacle with Amanda and Whit and Jude overhearing him. What was he going to do?

Jude saying his name suddenly pulled him out of his thoughts.

Oh shit. She looked pissed.

"How was that, Thomas?" It was a loaded question and they both knew it. And was she ever going to stop calling him Thomas? She knew he hated going by Thomas almost as much as Spied hated being called Vincent.

"Uh, that was great Jude," he supplied lamely. Crap. Wrong answer.

"Great? Now I KNOW you haven't been paying attention to what I've been playing. I'm sorry my album is keeping you from your... whatever she is."

"Jude, it wasn't that. You know there is no one in my life right now," he almost added: no one but you. That would have ended badly for him.

"Whatever. You've always been a liar," she glared at him. And if looks could kill, he would be dead. Damnit, what was it about the Harrison women thinking he was a liar. He started to defend himself but was cut off.

"Just leave. We both know you don't want to be here. I can't believe I let Kyle talk me into giving you another chance. Biggest mistake ever."

"No." For once he wasn't going to let her go sulk for a month. It was time for him to clear the air about what exactly was waiting for him in Montana and why it had taken priority over Jude.

"I said leave." She was so used to saying the word leave and seeing him walk away. No. Not this time. He wasn't going to let her get away with it. Showing Jude he cared by doing everything she asked was getting him nowhere. It was time to do things his way.

"I'm not leaving until we have a talk. You tell me why you won't sing when I'm not around and act like you hate me when I am here, and I'll tell you where I am when I'm not here. I promise you it's nothing like you think," he pleaded with her. Damnit, why were they having this argument over the intercom with a pane of glass between them.

"I do hate you. It's not an act. And it's none of your business what I do outside the studio."

"You don't mean that. Jude, I'm worried about you. And everything you do in and out of this studio is my business because it effects you." Wrong thing to say. At that, Jude stormed out of the studio. He hesitated for a few seconds before running after her. He caught up with her in the alley, she was about to run out into traffic when he grabbed her left arm to stop her. Did she not see the cars?

"Get your fucking hands off me. You don't know shit about me any more. You gave up any right to be concerned when you walked out that door a year ago. You don't know where I've been. What I've done. The things that have been done to me. I never want to see you again. I hate you and the only way I could ever die happy would be if I never saw you again," she screamed at him as she pulled her arm free of his grasp. Desperate to keep her from walking away before he could explain himself, he grabbed her shirt sleeve which resulted in a large rip that exposed her skin to him. Never had he been more shocked than when he saw what she hid.

"Jesus Christ, Jude." She looked down and saw what he was staring at.

"Are those tract marks?"

"No." She always was a bad liar.

"Don't you even fucking try to lie to me on this one. I always know when you're lying." God, how could he have been so stupid. Erratic behavior, disappearances, weight loss, disconnect with everyone around her, the sunglasses, constant long sleeves. He was an idiot. Actually, that didn't even begin to cover how stupid he was. Of all people, he should have known. He'd failed her.

"Fuck off, asshole," she said venomously. Impulsively, he reached out and grabbed her roughly by the arms, pulling her struggling body close to him.

"Never. Gonna. Happen. We need to talk about this, Jude." It was a spur of the moment decision, one that in retrospect was a bad move.

"I mean it! Let me go already." A sense of panic was starting to well up in Jude. She had to get away. Now. Oh, this was bad. This was bad. Get away. Get away. Her mind was in overdrive as she started to remember everything she was trying to forget.

"No. Besides, _you know you like it_." But it wasn't Tommy's voice that she heard. The Fan had spoken those same words to her just before... She tried to pull away, but his arms were holding tight to her and her back was up against a wall. Her body suddenly went slack as she stopped resisting his hold.

"No. No. Please. Don't, just, don't hurt me." Something in her voice had changed and it made Tommy's stomach drop. She wasn't talking to him anymore.

"Jude, Jude! Snap out of it girl!"

_"Get off me!" Jude slurred, trying unsuccessfully to push the Fan off of her. Her struggle was useless, the Fan had her pinned down. Oh God, His hand. One hand was slowly trailing up and down her inner thigh, before grabbing at her breasts. She had to stop Him. Why couldn't she move. This was wrong. _

_"Stop!" She meant to scream it, but it came out quiet and broken instead._

_"You know you like it," He was taking her pants off. No. She didn't want this. She wanted Tommy. Tommy. He said he'd always be there for her. Tommy. It wasn't until He slapped her across the face that she realized her pleas for Tommy had been said out loud._

_"Tommy. You're in bed with me, and you're crying for Lil Tommy Q? I don't think so whore. You're going to regret that, bitch," He entered her roughly and she screamed out in pain. "See? You know you like it..."_

"Tommy, save me..." She whispered the words so quietly that he almost didn't hear her. And then he realized that she had fainted in his arms. It was the first time since he'd left that she'd called him Tommy instead of Thomas. Something was very wrong. He brushed a piece of hair out of her face and brushed his hand against her forehead. She was burning up.

"Oh, Jude. What happened to you. Who did this to you," he said softly as he cradled her body close to him. Sadly, Tommy knew the answer to that question was him. He'd done this to her. He might not have been the person to inflict whatever memory she was reliving on her, but he was undoubtedly behind it. And he hadn't been there to save her from whatever it was that hurt her so badly. He always did hurt the ones he loved. Jude was the one he loved the most, she was the one who he'd hurt the most. This was all his fault. It was his coming back here every month that hurt her so much. How had he not seen it before? He'd been trying so hard to not hurt Jude that he hadn't even realized how his actions were affecting her.

He had to make this better. He couldn't keep hurting Jude like this, walking away from her every month, fueling her pain and need for escape. No, it wasn't right. It was time for him to do right by her.

Tommy pulled her small body close to him and carried her back inside. Placing her on one of the plush couches, he turned to go find paper and a pen. He was only a few steps away when he noticed she was shivering. With his jacket on, he hadn't noticed the briskness of the early morning hours, but Jude had been wearing only a thin shirt. Shrugging off his jacket, he carefully wrapped it around her, hoping that it would bring her some level of warmth and comfort. Satisfied that she was sufficiently covered, he resumed his search for pen and paper and eventually began his final goodbye to the only woman he'd truly loved.

Jude awoke nearly an hour later on a couch in the lobby of G Major, with the favorite leather jacket of one Tom Quincy wrapped tightly around her. She inhaled the lingering scent of his cologne and took great comfort in it's familiarity. If his jacket was still here, then surely he was too. Maybe if she was quiet enough she could sneak out without him realizing it. She tried to sit up, but her body, her body just wasn't willing to move. She felt like she'd been hit by a MAC truck. Stupid Quincy had kept her trapped in the studio for the last eighteen hours.

Gathering the reserves of her energy, she sat up and reached for her shoes. Pulling one on, she reached for the other and discovered a folded piece of paper with her name on it.

_Jude,_

_Tonight has opened my eyes to everything that has been going on at G Major since my sudden departure last fall, and to just how selfish my actions have been. _

_The first time I left, it was out of family obligations. This time, it's because I realize my being there is hurting you in ways I never imagined. I'll admit, it was selfish of me to tell D I would work with you but only for a few days a month. My heart was in the right place, but I know now that you need me to be in your life every day or not at all, not just occasionally. Obviously my presence there makes things harder on you, and I can't allow myself to do that anymore. _

_I wish I had all the right words to say to you right now, but I don't. All I can do is tell you that you have changed my life in ways you will never know, and I am truly grateful for that. _

_I disappeared without a trace before, and left you with no way to tell me you needed me. That was a mistake on my part, one which I will not make again. If you ever need me or want my help or simply have no where else to go, know that I'll do whatever I can for you. But getting in touch with me will be your decision. _

_Tommy_

He'd left her again. That was what she wanted all along, right? To have him out of her life for good. It was.

Then why did it hurt so much that he had done what she'd asked. Tucking the letter with Tommy's final words to her and a number she would never use into her back pocket, she walked out of G Major. She needed a drink and she needed to get out of there. Luckily she knew a place that never closed.

* * *

It was just after dawn when Jude stumbled out of a night club in a rather unsavory part of town, her mind still whirling over Tommy's letter. She finally managed to hail a cab and directed the driver to take her to the coffee shop down the street from G Major. When they arrived at her destination, she paid the driver and slipped out of the back seat. The news stand next door to the coffee shop caught her attention. Her stomach dropped when she saw pictures of herself gracing the cover of several tabloids. Pictures she had paid a whole lot of money to keep from going to the press.

"How the hell did these get out?" she wondered out loud. The shock of seeing herself passed out naked on the cover of _Talk National_ quickly wore off and turned to panic. Everyone was going to know the truth. Tommy was going to know the truth. No, Tommy left. Tommy didn't matter to her.

She glanced at the date on the cover: September 16, 2008. Of all days. Today. The day when one year ago her entire life had fallen apart. When she'd stood in the street begging Tommy not to go, when she'd watched him walk away, when she'd gone to see Mason, when _The Fan_ had... done what he did.

"Jude, is there something you'd like to tell me?" The angry voice of Darius came from behind her. She turned to face him, trying to wipe the tears from her eyes. She didn't respond to his question.

"Are these real?" he asked. She nodded her head yes and he cursed loudly.

"Were you aware of these?" She nodded her head again.

"How recent are they." She still wouldn't speak. "I take it your stunned silence means you thought you'd taken care of these," he continued. She hung her head guiltily. "This is what started it all, isn't it.No answer. He sighed heavily and put a guiding hand on her back, "come inside, we'll figure this all out." She allowed him to lead her away from the news stand.

When they entered the lobby of G Major, Sadie ran over to her with a familiar looking arrangement of flowers. "Did Tom do something?" Sadie asked. Jude shook her head, not wanting them to know the truth, and took the flowers from Sadie.

"Well he must have done something, he sent you that same arrangement for your birthday... oh come on don't look so surprised. The card was a dead give away and yes I snooped through your dressing room, live with it. Anyway, what does it say?"

Jude opened the card and almost collapsed when she read it's contents. _**Happy Anniversary. Hope it's one you'll never forget**_. She dropped the flowers and card and ran for the door, ignoring Darius and Sadie's pleas for her to come back.

Sadie picked up the card and read it out loud, "I don't get it. Sounds like classic Tommy, her favorite flowers, the anniversary of what was going to be their first date, why isn't this a good thing?"

"Jude and Tommy don't even speak to each other when it's not absolutely necessary. Why would he send her flowers Sadie?" Darius said. Things were starting to add up for him. He'd always suspected something happened that night Tommy left, something terrible enough to break Jude completely. In light of the photos that had surfaced, he had a pretty damn good idea of what happened. "Sadie, G Major is on a lock down. Anyone speaks to the press, about anything at all, they will be terminated immediately. We are not scheduling a press conference. All you will tell the media is 'no comment'. Call Detective Hower with the Toronto P.D., he owes me a favor. And get Quincy here immediately," he ordered before stalking off to his office.

Sadie returned to her desk utterly confused, and startled to realize that all lines into G Major were full. The phones were going crazy.

* * *

_Again, apologies for the delay. Finals week was quite stressful, plus my third hospitalization in as many months :( and a break up with Mr. Chicago Is. Anyway, enough of my sob story. I hope you've enjoyed this installment of the soap opera that is my version of Jude's life._

_ As always, not my world, I just play in it.  
_


End file.
